Our (Post-Finale) Life
by astoldbygingerr
Summary: *Spoilers! Written after Finale. Patch and Nora have been through it all, but finally, all of their troubles are behind them. Or are they? Patch and Nora attempt to move on and try to live 'normally'. But how will the past come to haunt them? Full of twists and turns, it follows a girl and her guardian as they begin their life together. Exciting things in later chapters! (; R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Hush Hush Series After Finale

**Patch POV**

Well, its over. Its finally over. All of the danger, all of the sneaking around, all of the lies. Now, Dante is dead, the war between angels and nephilim has ended, and all of the fallen angels are locked away in hell.

Well, except for me.

Now, I look to Nora as she lies next to me, in my bed, in my place. _In my heart_, I think to myself. She whimpers lightly in her sleep. I frown, thinking about the bad dreams she has been having lately. The war, the stress, and the loss that she has endured over the last couple months have taken their toll on her, supplying a fresh wave of nightmares each time she falls asleep.

All I want to do is to comfort her, make her believe that it is finally _over_, that we have each other, and nothing can keep us apart.

I shift my weight off the bed, trying to ease myself out of the room and head to the kitchen to make breakfast. Nora's eyes snap open as her hand reaches out to grasp the empty space next to her. Her eyes dart around frantically, looking for me.

"Shhh, Nora, its okay." I say as I rush back to her side. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you."

She looks up at me as she sits up, relief flooding her eyes. "I thought you left. I had a dream that you left, and I woke up – and, and you weren't there." Tears threaten to fall as her lip trembles, breaking my heart.

"I would never leave you, Nora." I say as I sit on the bed and curl our bodies together. "Why do you keep having these bad dreams? What can I do? I feel so helpless." I try to meet her eyes, but she won't look at me.

"Oh, its nothing. Just me being silly I'm sure. But the thought of you leaving…" Nora says as she looks down into her lap, biting her lip and wringing her fingers together.

I put my finger under her chin, tilting her head up so that I can see her eyes. "Nora. I love you. I'm never leaving. In fact, you're stuck with me. For… forever." I smirk and give her a quick kiss on the nose. She scrunches up her face and her lips tug upwards, threatening a smile.

"There we go! I see a smile. Now, as much as I wish I could stay in bed with you forever…"

Nora punches my arm for my signature innuendo and hops off the silk sheets. God, she is fine. An old t-shirt of mine hangs off her tiny frame, barely covering her bottom and showing off her bar-stool legs. Crossing the room, she reaches the bathroom door and looks over her shoulder.

_"Like what you see, Patch?" _she speaks to my mind.

It takes every ounce of control to resist running over to her, pinning her against the wall, ripping off her shirt, and – "Nora. Please. Don't tempt me." I say, before I do something rash.

"But, what do you mean?" Nora says as she bats her eyelashes at me. Oh, she's playing Innocent Nora today. I guess I'll just have to play… Devil's Advocate.

"Well, Nora." I say, crossing the room to stand in front of her. I take small steps toward her until she is completely back against the door frame. One of my hands braces against it, trapping her. "What I mean is, I am trying _really hard_ to behave myself, but your body is tempting me otherwise."

Color spreads to her cheeks and she peers up at me through those damn eyelashes. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you to it then. But maybe, if you're _really_ well-behaved, you'll get rewarded. Later." She smirks and turns on her heel, ducking under my outstretched arm and into the bathroom. I shake my head and laugh to myself. How did she get out of that one?

Walking into the kitchen, I think about her. Well, I'm always thinking about her. But this time, I'm thinking about how great it is to _feel_. To feel Nora's soft skin, to feel the tile under my feet, to feel heat and silk and hard and soft, to feel anything and everything. Detective Basso gave me more than sensation when he gave me this ability, he gave me purpose. I never want to go another day without feeling Nora's hair, her lips, her skin.

Sitting at the counter, smiling like an idiot – that's how Nora finds me. She waves her hand in front of my face and whispers "Helloooo… anybody in there?"

I blink and take her hand, pulling her into my lap. I whisper back "Just thinking about you, Angel."

* * *

**Nora POV**

After a relaxing morning with Patch, I begin to feel restless. I dial up my mother just to check in with her. I feel bad living with Patch and leaving her in the farmhouse by herself, but then again, I would miss Patch if we were apart. It's a viscous cycle of guilt, dividing my time between them. I really do miss her though. I need to talk to her about all these things going on in my life. And by things I mean Patch. I know I want to be with him forever, but what's the next step? I need some mom advice.

One ring, two rings, three, four. Hmm. That's weird. She always answers her phone; it's always nearby in case she gets a work call.

"Patch?" I yell between rooms, trying to get his attention. He appears in the doorway in nothing but faded jeans, his hair still damp from a shower.

"I think I'm going to go and see my mother. She wasn't answering her phone, and I just wanted to make sure she is okay. I'm probably just being silly again, but I worry about her being alone all the time." I say as I gather my purse and my jacket.

He dips back into the bedroom, returning with a shirt and tugging it over his head. "Uhh... what are you doing?" I ask as he slips into his shoes.

"I'm coming with you, Nora."

"Oh, Patch, you don't have to do that. Besides, my mom and I need some girl time together."

"I think I can handle a little girl talk. And besides, my nail beds need a good buff." Patch smiles that crooked smile and I forget what I need to say.

"Well, uhm… We need some _private_ girl talk. As in, you may come up in conversation."

"Nora," he says, clutching his chest and feigning a look of hurt. "Talking about me? What is there to talk about?"

"Top secret information, sorry." I say as I give him a quick peck on the cheek and run out the door before he can stop me.

~End of Chapter 1~


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hello readers! I'm assuming you share my love of the Hush, Hush series. And my love of Patch. This story has been so much fun to write. Anyway, here's chapter 2. Please review (:**

* * *

**Nora POV**

Once I'm in my car, I breathe a sigh of relief. How did I get out of that one? I love Patch, but he's just so … _Patch_. Gorgeous and perfect and overwhelmingly stunning and all mine. But sometimes, I need to get away for a minute to myself.

I pull into the farmhouse driveway. I turn off my car and step into the crisp autumn air. After walking up my porch steps, I dig through my purse for the farmhouse keys. Just as I'm about to put my key in, the door flies open.

"Nora! What a pleasant surprise!" my mother says as she crushes me in a hug.

"Mom! Hi! I tried to call you, but there wasn't an answer."

"Oh, I left my cell at the office. I've been so busy that there isn't any room in my head to remember silly things like my phone! I'll get it back tomorrow."

"That's a relief. I though something happened to you." I walk inside, dump my things in a heap on the counter, and grab a seat at the island.

"Of course not Nora. But you look stressed. What's wrong honey?"

Oh God, she knows me so well. Too well. "Mom, I just miss you. I really wanted to talk to you."

"About what sweetie? Are things going well with Patch?" She still has her reservations about Patch, but I think he's grown on her.

"Oh, they're going well, I just… need some guidance." I bite my lip and look up at her.

"I'm all ears."

"You know that Patch and I have been together a long time now, right? Well, I just don't know what the next step in the relationship should be."

"You're not pregnant, are you?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Mom! No! Ugh, let's not go there. I just meant… _not_ that step."

"Oh, Nora. If you two are really meant to be together -"

"We are."

"Okay. _Since_ you two are really meant to be together, things will all work out. Everything happens for a reason Nora. I have faith that you will figure it out."

"Thanks Mom. I needed to hear that. I've just been a little anxious about everything lately."

"You can talk to me anytime you need to. I'll always be here for you." She reaches across the island and takes my hand in hers.

After a quiet lunch and more talk, I decide that I should be getting back to Patch. He's probably wondering what 'girl talk' could take this long. My mother and I say our goodbyes, I remind her to bring her phone home tomorrow, and I head to the car. I hop in, slide out my phone, and send Patch a quick text: **Coming home! Cya soon. –N**

Putting my phone in the cupholder, I turn to get my seatbelt. That is when I see something out of the corner of my eye in the rearview mirror.

I freeze. Not daring to turn around, I flick my eyes to the mirror and see the outline of a figure sitting in the back seat.

That's the last thing I see before my world turns black.

* * *

**Patch POV**

Where is she? Nora has been gone for a long time. It is starting to get dark, and the days are getting shorter, which means that what little light we have, won't stay for long. I felt better when she texted me and told me she was coming home, but that was 45 minutes ago. I know the farmhouse is outside of town, but it shouldn't be taking 45 minutes to get back.

Just as I'm about to call her for the fourth time in a row, my cell starts ringing. Its Nora. _Oh, thank goodness, she's okay._ I hastily answer the phone "Nora? Where are you Angel?"

I can only hear heavy breathing, some shuffling, and a big thud. "Nora?" I ask, willing her to answer. When there is only silence for a few long seconds, I begin to panic. "Nora! Angel! Where are you?" I begin to pace, tugging at my hair and listening to the sounds of labored breathing.

"…. Patch." Nora says weakly from the other end of the line.

"Nora! Where are you? Are you hurt? Angel, please tell me you're okay! I'm coming to get you, just stay on the phone!" I frantically grab my Jeep keys off the counter and run to my car.

"… Patch… I'm ..." She groans into the phone and whimpers softly. I hear another thud and a mangled cry come from Nora.

"NORA! Hold on Angel, I'm coming to get you!" I yell into the phone as I throw the Jeep into drive.

Through my car's GPS, I activate the tracking device on her jean jacket. Thank goodness that she brought it with her, I don't know how I would have found her without it.

The GPS beeps and I look to see the destination: just outside of Bo's Arcade. _What the hell?_ I think to myself. Why is she there? Who from my past is hurting her? Oh God, if anything happens to her, I won't be able to live with myself.

I speed and wind down back roads, passing cars and blowing through stop signs.

"Nora, Angel, are you still there? Angel?" I say into the phone as I narrowly miss hitting another car. I look at the screen and it says that the call was lost. "DAMN IT!" I scream, hitting the steering wheels with my fists. After another minute, I screech up to Bo's, leaving my car haphazardly in front of the entrance.

I run up to the bouncer. He recognizes me and is about to start conversation, but sees my look of distress and lets me go in right away. I don't even acknowledge him. I can't think about anything except _Nora. Where is Nora. Where is Nora._

Call it intuition, call it a magnetic pull, it doesn't matter. But as soon as I began to run through the crowds, I knew that she wasn't inside. She would be out back, behind the Arcade in the alley. I pushed through the masses of people, through the gamblers and the drinkers, through the parties and the couples. Once I was at the back, I snaked my way through the back hallways, ignoring the people that I passed.

I finally reached the back door and nearly took it off the hinges. Once I was outside, I could see my breath and hear my heart beating. I whipped my head back and forth, and followed my gut by steering myself to the right down the alley.

No. No. This was not happening.

I had just passed a large dumpster when I froze. No. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a crumpled form on the ground, leaning against the brick wall. No. I rushed up to Nora and crouched in front of her, taking her limp and drooping head in my hands.

"Nora! Angel, please wake up!" I cry as I brush her matted hair from her forehead. There is a large gash on her forehead, a black eye forming, and a split lip. And that's only her face. I don't have time to examine the countless other injuries that she has. I carefully scoop her body into my arms and make my way back to my car as fast as I can, without hurting her.

"Patch?" she whispers softly. I shoot my gaze down at her and almost lose it. She looks so scared and her eyes are watering.

"Shh, Angel. I'm going to get you to a hospital and you'll be fine, okay? It'll stop hurting soon, I promise." I'm trying to keep it together for her, but there are so many emotions and thoughts running through my head. Anger, fear, love, despair.

Nora's eyes are fluttering and she looks weak. "… I think I'm just going to close my eyes for a little bit…" she trails off.

"NORA. Angel, you have to stay awake. You stay with me. Do you hear? Keep your eyes open baby." I nearly growl at her as I get close to the Jeep. "I'm going to lay you on the back seat now, okay? I'm sorry, this might hurt a little." The only thing she does as I lay her down is let out a soft groan.

I slide into the driver's seat and I throw the Jeep into drive, screeching out of Bo's. _Think Patch. Where is the nearest hospital? THINK. _I hear Nora groan from the back and I join in her sound of pain with my own sound of anguish. I twist in my seat, glancing back at her. She's bleeding profusely and drifting in and out of consciousness. I take the exit that points me to the hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hi fanfictioners! I can't thank my reviewers, followers, and favorite-ers enough. :') You keep me going. Sorry for the cliff-hanger last chapter, but I couldn't resist! If anyone has suggestions for the plot, I would love to hear them! Anyways, about this chapter, it was fun to go back and do a snippet of the same scene from Nora's POV, and then Patch's POV was as much fun as it was challenging. Hope you enjoy! ...review!**

* * *

**Nora POV**

I keep having flashbacks of this one time, when I was seven, where I fell off the money bars during recess and broke my arm. It hurt really, really bad.

I guess I keep thinking of that time because I only _wish _that I was in that much pain.

This pain now is almost unbearable.

Right now, I think I'm in an alley. Weird. But I don't really remember and I'm too tired to think.

I let my head fall forward; I don't even have the energy to lift it. Hot liquid is streaming down the side of my face and onto my lap. I have the absurd thought that it will stain my clothes. And then, all I can think is: Where is Patch? Isn't this the part where someone finds me?

I feel strong hands lift my head after what seems like an eternity. I hear someone calling my name and telling me to wake up, but I just can't. I'm jostled and I suddenly feel weightless, as if I'm being carried. I use every ounce of energy I have left to open my eyes and whisper "Patch?" Those dark, beautiful eyes stare down at me in his arms with such an intense mix of fear and love.

Ahh, too much thinking, Nora.

"… I think I'm just going to close my eyes for a little bit…" I say as strongly as I can, which ends up being a whisper. It's hard to think straight, so I close my eyes as Patch carries me to his Jeep. Now he's talking really loud. Why can't he just let me sleep?

I groan as I'm put in the car. Darkness consumes me.

When I surface, I wish I didn't. I'm still in the car. Taking short and shallow breaths, I wrap my arms around my abdomen and curl into a fetal position.

Please, let whatever fresh hell this is be over soon.

* * *

**Patch POV**

I park the Jeep in the first spot I see and prepare myself to face Nora's rapidly deteriorating state. She has definitely gotten worse on the ride over. I keep telling myself _She is nephilim. She will survive. She will survive._ But somehow, that doesn't console me at all. I know she is in terrible pain, and there isn't anything I can do for her. And deep down, I know that I was the cause of her attack.

I get out of the driver's seat quickly and I open the back door. Nora is curled into a ball, scrunching up her tear-stained, blood spattered face. She appears to be conscious, because her breaths are labored and shaky.

I take her in my arms, trying not to move her too much. The cold fall air bites into our skins, showing off the breaths that we exhale in little puffs. I cross the parking lot and burst through the emergency doors. Doctors and nurses rush up to our sides, and help me lay Nora down on a stretcher. I'm holding her hand and whispering "Its okay Angel, I'll stay with you. Its okay." The nurses are trying to push past me, and I allow them, only because they need to help her.

I won't let them keep me from her. I _don't_ let them keep me from her. I follow the moving team of doctors, refusing to leave or stay behind in the waiting room. But, once she's wheeled into the O.R., I know that I have to let the doctors do their job. It just kills me to have her taken away.

* * *

After what seems like an eternity of sitting in the hallway, a doctor in blue scrubs approaches me. This middle-aged man sits on the ground next to me, as if we were about to talk about the weather, or watch a movie, or talk about anything other than her. He looks at me with a sorrowful expression.

"Patch, is it?" he asks.

"That's me. How is she?" I nearly growl at him for skirting around the issue.

He glances down at his lap and wrings his hands together. "I won't lie to you son, she's been better. Nora has just gotten out of surgery because of some internal bleeding. Along with that, she's suffered a serious concussion, broken her nose, has sustained several deep gash wounds on her forehead and sides, and has broken several ribs. Although things are bad now, I have every confidence that she'll make a full recovery."

I'm trying to keep myself from passing out or punching something by running my hands through my hair. As calmly as I can, I process this information and I ask what room she is in. He replies, "She was just in the ICU after surgery, but she's been transported to room 312. She is recovering surprisingly quickly. In fact, it's almost miraculous how quickly she is recovering. She's got people in high places, I guess."

_You have no idea_, I think as I jump up and run down the hall. I know that she isn't allowed visitors yet, but I think I can outrun that doctor. I round the corner and hear him shout after me, "Patch! Wait! She's still not allowed visitors!"

I bound up stairs and around corners until I finally reach her door. Just as I'm about to open it, a nurse that is busily looking at charts flies it open. I jump back and hide around the corner. Quickly, so I can catch the door and not be seen, I enter her room. _This is ridiculous_, I think to myself, _I'm sneaking around this hospital and breaking the rules about visiting_.

My inner-babble is cut short when I catch sight of her. She seems so tiny and fragile in that huge bed, hooked up to all of those tubes and wires. Her eyes are closed, her face bruised and scratched. She actually looks quite peaceful.

I walk over to her bedside and sit in the chair next to it. As I take her hand in mine, I notice that her knuckles are scratched. _Of course_ _my Angel put up a fight; she would never go down easy_, I think to myself.

I hear Nora's doctor round the corner and bustle into the room. I quickly stand and our eyes lock.

"Patch you can't -" he begins.

I hold up my hands and smirk at the ground, saying "My bad doctor, I'll just be leaving." He looks momentarily confused at my willingness to leave, but doesn't question it.

Let's just say, I may or may not have mind-tricked him into thinking I left. No harm, right? I sit back down quietly in the chair and he proceeds to check up on Nora. When he seems satisfied, he hurries out the door to his next patient.

When the door softly clicks shut, Nora's eyes immediately begin to flutter open. I jump up from the chaise and run to her side. _Please be okay_, I think, _please remember me, please_. I kneel by the bed and I run the back of my hand across her cheek. Her face is still a little bruised, but overall looks miraculously better. Her nose doesn't look broken and the "gash" on her forehead is no more than a scratch. Weird. She looks at me, repeatedly closing and opening her eyes, as if she couldn't believe I was actually there.

"Angel," I whisper, as I try to blink away the tears in my own eyes, "I thought I lost you."

"Patch," she croaks, her throat dry. Her eyes fill with tears and she attempts a smile. I think she finally realizes she is in a hospital, because she starts to rip at the tubes and wires that are over her, frantic to be free.

"No, Angel, stop. You'll hurt yourself." I plead with her as she whimpers and gives up.

She lifts her eyes to meet mine, and I see them fill up and threaten to spill.

"It'll be okay, Angel, I won't let anything happen to you."

She closes her eyes and softly shakes her head. "No, Patch. You… don't understand." She struggles to get the words out, taking shallow breaths. I thought that she was struggling to breathe from the lack her breathing tube, but evidently, it was fear that took her breath away.

"Patch…" she says, "We need to get out of here."

~end of chapter 3~


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: To my faithful readers, I'm sorry I've kept you waiting! To my new readers, thanks for joining. (; As you all know, reviews take a whopping TWO seconds. *gasp* But I would really appreciate each and every input! Without further ado, here is chapter 4! Take it away, Patch.**

* * *

**Patch POV**

"What? Angel, no. You're in a hospital, you're safe here." My eyes are wide with shock and I suddenly worry, "Do you know what happened? Is your memory okay?"

"Patch. My memory's fine." She rolls her eyes, looking for a second like her normal self. "But we need to leave. NOW" she whisper-yells at me.

The look in her eyes says it all. The deadly combination of fear and determination – she's scared out of her mind, but she WILL get out of here, with or without my help. I trust her enough to understand that she knows what she's doing.

"Angel, I'll get you out if you really think we need to, but I need to know – are you feeling okay? Do you know all the injuries you've gotten? You've been in surgery, you've-"

"Yes, Patch. Listen to me. That's just it. I literally feel perfectly fine. I'm healing at a _freakishly_ rapid pace. I guess being nephilim comes in handy? But they'll notice. I had to pretend that I was groggy and drugged when they wheeled me out of surgery. I've had to pretend I was asleep every time a nurse came in. Patch – I'll explain everything, but we need to go."

"Angel, they'll notice you're gone." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize. "We're going to mind-trick half of the staff, aren't we?"

She nods her head and wears a proud smile. "Yep. I'll snatch up my charts and it'll be like I was never here."

"You know, I like this rebellious side." I say as I move to her side to help her up.

Nora sits up, wincing a little. "I'm fine. Damn broken ribs in the way." She says, clutching her abdomen, when she notices me watching her. She pulls at the wires on her arms and at her breathing tube, not pausing to register the pain. I help her when she swings her legs around the bed, shakily rising to her feet.

"Well, shit." she whispers, hanging her head while a blush creeps across her face. She practically throws herself back onto the bed.

"What is it?"

"Uhm. Well. My hospital gown is, uhm, sort of, uhm, open in the back." She rushes her words because she's embarrassed, and fidgets on the bed.

I smirk and say, "I'm sorry, what was that?" I can't help myself; I just love to tease her. I'd do anything to get that blush.

"Patch, shut up! What am I going to do? I can't exactly walk around like this." she says as she hits my arm.

"Well, I don't mind the view. I'm sure those young male doctors will enjoy it, too." I smile and shrug my shoulders. In my head, I know that if any guy ever even _tried_ to look at her, I'd flip - but hey, it got a rise out of her.

"So not the time, Patch."

Still smirking, I turn around and search the room for replacement clothes. I end up taking a stack of scrubs from a cabinet in the corner. As I get them, a brilliant idea pops into my head.

_Angel,_ I think to her, _I've got the perfect escape plan._

"What are we now, enemies of the state? Escape plans?" Nora says to me as she pulls on her blue scrubs, four sizes too big for her. She made me turn around and face the wall, bless her innocent soul.

"Angel, I'm not sure that breaking you out of a hospital will be easy or legal."

"Okay, you can turn around now, I'm done."

At that, I slowly pivot and give her a once over. "Don't get me wrong Angel, I like the look. But I was hoping for more of a sexy nurse look. I'm still holding you to that reward you promised me earlier."

"Alright, ha ha. Very funny. But really, how are we going to do this?" She pulls at her scrubs and runs her hands through her hair, clearly exacerbated.

I tug my shirt over my head and throw it on the bed. I start to step out of my jeans.

"Uh, Patch?! Again, so not the time." She shrieks at me.

Smiling, I say, "Relax Angel, it's all part of the plan." I change into my own set of scrubs, not bothering to ask for privacy. "We are both going to walk right out of here. With our mind trick, anyone who sees us will just assume we work here."

Her mouth hangs open in shock. "Patch, that is actually brilliant... Let's do it."

We walked over to the door and stopped to turn and look at each other. I took her face in my hands and dropped my head down so that our eyes were level. "Angel, follow my lead, okay? We'll be out of here soon." I leaned my head down and touched my lips to hers, sending jolts of electricity between us. Nora wrapped her arms around my neck, responding to my touch. We broke off, breathing hard. "Let's go," I whisper.

* * *

**Nora POV**

Still reeling from that kiss, Patch whispers "Let's go." All I can do is nod my head and stand behind him as her opens the door.

He pulls me by the hand into the hallway. As we walk, he says to me, "Relax and focus on projecting the illusion." I nod and swallow the lump in my throat, trying to simultaneously clear my head and project the trick.

We wind through the hallways and follow the signs to the exit. We walk through some deserted hallways, past the cafeteria, and down stairs. Good thing Patch has a sense of direction, because I sure don't. Luckily, it's either very late at night or very early in the morning, so it isn't busy.

So far, we've only passed a couple of nurses, and we acknowledged them coolly with a nod or hello. Just as we reach a side exit by the radiology department, we hear a curt, "What do you think you're doing?" from behind us.

Patch freezes. I freeze.

We turn around together, slowly. Inside, I'm a bundle of nerves, but I have no reason to worry, right? The mind-trick will cover for us. There isn't anything to worry about, Nora. Calm down, I tell myself.

Once we face her, I know it. I can feel it as soon as I lay eyes on the young female doctor. _Patch_, I tell him in mind-speak, _She's nephilim. I can feel it._ I take his hand and squeeze it.

_I feel it too, Angel_, he replies. He squeezes back.

Without beating around the bush, Patch says, "So, you're nephilim." He barely bats an eye or breaks a sweat, keeping his composure when I feel like I'm about to explode.

She raises her eyebrow and smirks at us. "And you're a fallen angel."

I turn my gaze back to her and get a good look of her. She looks about my mother's age, beautiful brown hair streaked with silver, and wearing a white lab coat. The embroidered name on her chest pocket says _Dr. Claire Greene_. The second I look at her, I feel safe. Maybe I see my mother in her eyes, maybe she understands and is helping us more than we realize, maybe its just me being naïve. But in that moment, I feel like I've known her my whole life. We can trust her, I know.

Patch, meanwhile, tenses next to me. He replies "Yes, I'm the last fallen angel." However nice she may be, he isn't comfortable with other people knowing about him. But I speak to Patch, _Baby, she's on our side_. He sighs inwardly and says, _you think?_

"My name is Dr. Greene, but you can call me Claire. Are you Patch and Nora?"

"That's us. How did you know our names? That we weren't human?" I ask her.

She looks from Patch to me. She squints her eyes, saying, "Ah, Nora. You look better. I did a cat scan of your head last night. It's smart of you to leave before anyone notices how quickly you're healing."

"Uhm, thank you?" I say. "But that still doesn't explain how you know us."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I'm a friend of Detective Basso's. He's quite fond of you two."

My eyes widen in shock and she gives a warm smile, but I don't say anything. Gosh, how much does she know? Well, she is nephilim, so maybe having an alibi will be helpful.

Suddenly, she looks down at her charts, as if she was dismissing us. Without looking up, she says, "I'll be seeing you around probably. You can find me if you need anything." And with that, she turns and walks back into her office, not even looking back.

Stunned, Patch and I look at each other as if to say, _what the hell was that?_

I chuckle and pull Patch by the hand to the door. "Well, it looks like we made a new friend today."

He snorts, and says, "Yeah. I guess so. Small world."

It's funny I am so relaxed, considering all the things that are going on. I mean, for crying out loud, we're crossing a hospital parking lot, wearing stolen scrubs, and I was assaulted less than 12 hours ago. What's wrong with me? But then, I look up at Patch's face and remember why I'm calm. He's my rock, my everything, he's _literally_ my angel.

We reach his car and he pulls me into him, tightening his hold on my waist. "Let's go home, Angel."

~End of Chapter 4~


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Here is a long chapter for you guys! This chapter was super fun to write (lol, I guess I say that about every chapter). I'm really going to need reviews and feed back to let me know how you feel about this and the upcoming chapter. Without further ado, take it away Patch. Again. **

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**Patch POV**

It's early in the morning, and the sun is rising. We're in the Jeep, navigating through the sleepy town of Coldwater to my place. Our place. I glance sideways at Nora, and her eyes are drooping, struggling to stay open. She's slouched in her seat. I take her hand in mine and tell her, "Sleep now, Angel."

She smiles lightly and leans her body across the console, resting her head on my shoulder. Our contact makes it easier for her to sleep, I guess. I can understand. Within moments, I hear her breath even and slow, telling me she's asleep.

I take the long route home. I need time to think.

It's crazy to think that less than 24 hours ago, Nora and I were safe, in my place, joking and having a normal morning. But now, my past has destroyed normalcy. The proverbial shit has hit the fan. How long did I think that our lives would go on normally? I was just kidding myself, and I put Nora in harm's way because of it.

I've been putting this off in my mind. But I can't any longer. Who was that person that attacked Nora? I swear I will find them and rip them to shreds. How dare they even put a finger on her? Oh God, this is all my fault. If I only insisted that I went with her, if I went after her… I can't – I won't – let anything happen to her, ever again. I will take that promise to the grave.

As I stroke her hand, still resting in mine, I promise myself that I'll find this person. I'll find and end this sick person – and Nora won't have to know, I don't want her to ever worry about it again. This is MY problem, not hers. She didn't ask for this.

I pull into the parking garage and turn off the car. Without waking her, I get out of the car and go to her side. I pick her up out of the seat, cradling her under her knees and around her back. She stirs in her sleep, resting her head against my chest and wrapping her arms around my neck. I press my lips to her forehead, squeezing my eyes shut and mentally kicking myself. How will I ever forgive myself? I almost lost her.

I take her into the apartment and carry her to our bedroom. When I lay her down on the black silk sheets, I try to memorize the image. The image of my Angel, blissfully unaware, peaceful and innocent.

* * *

**Nora POV**

I wake with a start, sweating and shivering. I know I just woke up from a nightmare, but I don't try to remember what it was about. Nightmares are nothing new, anyway.

The blinds in our room are drawn, but a little light of the early evening filters through. _Wait, early evening?_ I look at the clock on the Patch's dresser and it reads 7:24 pm. _Holy hell, I've been asleep for twelve hours. _

It all rushes back to me; the attack, the hospital, Patch.

Patch. Where is he? I look around the room, sitting up. But with my sudden movement, I grab my head and groan. I may have recovered at a fast rate, but that doesn't make me immune to killer headaches. I look at the nightstand next to me and I see two Advil and a glass of water. The silk sheets pool at my waist when I grab the pills and I notice that I'm wearing Patch's tee-shirt. I blush at the thought of him changing me out of the scrubs. He thinks of everything.

I throw back the pills and set the glass back on the table. This time, I notice a paper laying on the edge of the nightstand. I pick it up with shaking hands. It reads, in Patch's elegant script:

_Angel,_

_I hope that you are still sleeping when I return, but if you aren't, I will be back soon. I'm so sorry. Just some business to attend to. Please don't worry, and please don't leave the apartment. I love you._

_Yours,_

_Patch_

I crumple the paper and clutch it to my chest, distraught with emotion. First, I'm angry that he's gone. Not that I don't feel safe, but that I should be with him. I'm not a little girl; I'm not going to let him do everything himself. Second, I'm scared that he'll get hurt, or lost, or never come back. But after all that, I feel this hollow place in my chest. It's hard to put to words, but it feels as if my heart has been ripped out of me. Maybe because it has. And I start to sob.

I don't know how long I've been crying, maybe minutes, maybe hours. I don't care. Suddenly, I just shut down. I'm lying down and I'm breathing, but that's about it. I'm not moving, and I'm certainly not thinking.

That's how he finds me.

I sense his presence before I feel him, but I don't speak, or move, or react at all. He pulls my body to his, and I once again begin sobbing, sobbing with tears I didn't know I had left. My head rests against his chest and I gasp, trying to catch my breath. It's a strangled, fish-out-of-water gasp, like I've surfaced after holding my breath for minutes. He's rocking me and smoothing my hair, whispering words that I'm too upset to hear.

It's too much. I start to weakly pound my fists against his chest, pushing him away. He only holds me tighter. I continue to beat my fists, raising my voice and saying, "Damn it, Patch! I... you…" I've lost all sense, I can't see straight, and his reply falls muffled on my ears. I try to calm down. Once again, I rest my forehead on his chest and take big gulps of air.

That's when I notice the small bloodstains spattered on his shirt.

My head whips up to his face and I catch the sob that starts to escape my mouth by clasping my hand over it. "PATCH!" I yell, muffled by my fingers. When I look him over, his face is bruised and scratched, much like mine was yesterday. His hair is a disheveled mess, and he looks exhausted. His knuckles are bleeding.

Slowly, as if he'll disappear, I reach my hands up and touch his face, my lip quivering. "… no, baby, no. What happened? Where were you?" I groan and run my fingers through his hair, down his chest; I just need to touch him, make sure he's really there, that this nightmare is really happening.

For the first time since he arrived, I hear the words he's been saying. "I'm fine, Angel. Shh. I'm fine." His voice is surprisingly strong and steady. Not at all how I feel.

"What happened, Patch?" I whisper, afraid that my voice will crack.

"Angel, it's nothing for you to worry about. I promise. And really, I'm fine." He says, throwing me a crooked smile that looks out of place on his bruised face. He seems calm and in place, acting as if nothing happened.

I don't know what to say, what to feel. "Patch." I say, "You're not fine. You're bleeding and bruised. You WILL tell me what happened in a minute, but first, please let me take care of you." I plead with him, looking into his eyes. I pointedly decide to let the issue of what happened drop for now because I need to see him cleaned up. I can't see him like this.

I stand up from the bed, Patch's tee-shirt was hiked up and not doing such a good job of keeping me modest. I quickly pull it down and reach out my hand. Patch takes it, speaking to me, _So innocent, Angel. Do you remember who changed you into that shirt? Nothing I haven't seen before._ He winks at me and stands up. I blush and shake my head as I lead him to the bathroom. _Get your mind out of the gutter Patch, I say to him_. However, I am secretly relieved that he feels well enough to joke around.

I sit on the edge of the bathtub, and Patch sits on a stool in front of me. I run some warm water and wet a washcloth to wipe his face clean. He leans toward me and closes his eyes as I dab at his forehead. Every once in a while, he winces, and I hurriedly apologize. This must be extra painful for him, because of his inexperience with pain and sensation.

Once his face is relatively clean, the washcloth has turned pink. I sigh and wring it out into the sink, my hands shaking. I turn back and face him, and he flicks his eyes up to meet mine. In this moment, I feel a hot surge of passion for him. A fiery electricity runs between us.

To break this sexual tension, I whisper, "How are you feeling?" My words echo in the bathroom.

"Angel, this is nothing, I feel fine. I used to look twice as worse on some nights I was at Bo's."

I wince. Images of him in fights at Bo's swirl my mind. I purposefully block the more, er, _recent_, experiences I've had at Bo's. He sees my face and throws an apologetic look.

"Patch. Tell me where you were. Why would someone do this to you?" I press on.

"Angel, this isn't something you need to worry about." He is growing stern, turning into my protective Patch, the one that thinks he can shelter me from the world.

I give him a hard glare, not backing down.

His eyes glaze over as he continues, as if he were shutting down and resisting the memories. He says, "If you must know, I took care of that piece of dirt that hurt you. I didn't want to tell you because I knew it would just upset you." Patch is desperately trying to control his emotions, not letting anything break through.

He reaches for my hand, but I retract mine, pulling away. Does he know how badly he could have been hurt? He threw himself into this without any idea of who he was dealing with.

He's right. It did upset me. He put himself in danger, for me. I'm definitely not worth it. A silly girl like me, she isn't worth his pain. I know that Patch would do anything for me, put himself in danger, risk it all – and that's what scares me. His blatant disregard for self-preservation, because I outweigh everything else. I guess, though, I can understand. I feel the same exact way about him.

"Patch, who was it? Please tell me, so we can just put it behind us." I plead, looking into his eyes.

"If I tell you, can this be the last time we ever speak of it?" He looks seriously at me, and I give a small nod. "Fine," he sighs. "It was a very strong fallen angel." He sees me start to interrupt him, waiting for me to say that all the fallen angels except for him are gone.

"I know, I know. They're all supposed to be gone. This one just got lucky with his escape. He is cunning and deceptive, and he tricked his way out of hell. He's an old enemy from my past. Let's just say, he holds grudges… for _hundreds_ of years. Needless to say, he's back where he belongs." A dark look crosses over his face.

It's all very overwhelming, but I manage to squeak out, "I don't understand. If I'm nephilim and I couldn't even fight back, how did you defeat him with only a scratch or two?" My face twists in confusion.

"The archangels lent their assistance." My eyebrows raised at his curt reply, and I was about to question, but he continued.

"I just want to put it behind us and forget it ever happened. Because it will NEVER happen again." He practically growls his words at me. I can see it now: me being locked up forever, never leaving his sight. If I thought he was protective before, I'm scared to see him now.

"It's already behind me." I say, mostly for Patch's benefit. I sigh heavily and say, "I just wanted everything to be normal. Can't anything go right for us?"

His lips curl up into a smirk. "I promise Angel, I won't stop until our lives are _completely_ normal."

His face inches towards mine and he softly touches his lips to mine. "And I mean, soul-crushing, mind numbingly _normal_." It's moments like these that I live for.

_I'm sorry I worried you, Angel_, he says.

_Honestly, I'm just glad you're here, and now you're safe. I hated to wake up without you. _We always seem so real, so raw, when we share our special way of communicating.

_Is there any way I can make it up to you?_

_I can think of a few ways, Patch_, I say as I advance towards him and rest my hands on his chest. I don't know what it is about mind-speak, but I definitely become more daring.

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**Author's Note: I usually don't finish with a note, but what do you think? Is it finally lemon time? (;  
xoxo  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi guys! I shamefully admit that I have been neglecting Patch and Nora. Buuuuuut, I'm back! Yay! I've missed it so much. **

**This chapter really expands Patch and Nora's relationship, looking at it from both views and talking about some sticky topics. (Pun semi-intended). They sort things out in their relationship, and there's some fluff thrown in there. (;**

**As always, I would love some feedback! Even if it's just a word or two! Okay, shameless plugging over. Take it away, Nora.**

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**Nora POV**

_Breathe, Angel,_ Patch says to me quietly.

I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding. My hands lie on his sculpted chest, and I feel his heart beat beneath my fingers. It's a fast beat, but not nearly as fast as mine.

Patch pulls me to him and let his face rest against my neck, content to just be in contact with me. I fit myself against him, his big shoulders curved over and around me, almost protectively. Our bodies fit together perfectly, as if we were made to be this way, holding each other.

My mind wills my body to do something. Anything. Anything other than just stand there and hold him. But my subconscious is sitting in the corner, laughing at my awkwardness and my lack of sex appeal. _God_, I think to myself, _why can't I just be a freaking woman and get over myself?_

Suddenly, I push him back so that I can look him in the eye. He looks surprised at my sudden draw back and raises his eyebrow quizzically.

_Just say it, Nora,_ I think to myself. I take a deep breath and say "Patch, you know I love you, and I really do. But, it's just that… well…" I'm mumbling and avoiding his eyes. I've been developing a new and embarrassing tendency to bite my lower lip when I'm nervous. God, why do I become such a blundering idiot when I'm around him? It's like I loose all resolve when he's around.

He takes my chin in his hands and tugs gently so that I release my lip. My gaze slowly lifts to his; as if I'm afraid he'll be annoyed or upset with my actions. But it's the opposite.

He finishes my sentence, saying, "It's just that you're nervous and scared of intimacy. You're scared that you'll do something wrong, or I won't love you anymore, or I'll pick up and leave you. But Angel, I can swear to you, I'll never leave you. I'll sure as hell never stop loving you. I would never want to push you into something you didn't want, and I can certainly wait until you're ready. Hell, I've waited centuries for you – what's a little while longer?" His mouth turns up as he finishes his little speech. His adorable expression is almost, well, proud.

Realizing that he basically summed up my feelings in a couple sentences, I gape at him in amazement. "Patch. How? Just how?" I close my eyes and shake my head lightly in disbelief. "How do you know exactly what I'm feeling? I could tell that your presence wasn't in my mind or anything." When he's in my mind, which he knows not to do unless we're speaking, I can feel him there. But right now, it's only me.

He looks at me with wide eyes and says, "Nora, I've waited a long time to tell you this, but… it's one of my powers. I can, well, read emotions." He wrings his hands together, waiting for my response and looking odd.

My eyes widen in shock and I exhale, "No, no you can't. What? That's… but…" I can't find any words, so I settle for flailing my arms and taking deep breaths.

He finally breaks with a smile and says, "ANGEL, I'm only kidding! I'm kidding. I can't do that freaky shit." After laughing for a minute, Patch's mouth drops and he actually looks a little concerned for my health. He says, "Calm down before you have a heart attack!" He pins my arms to my sides so that I can't hurt myself, or him for the matter. He's smirking and trying not to laugh.

"PATCH." I yell, when I get my voice back. "NOT funny. This is me, trying to be serious for _one_ minute!" I glare at him accusingly. But after trying my best to scowl at his adorable face, I find myself swallowing a laugh that is ready to escape my own mouth.

I control my giggle fit and do my best to put on a serious face. "Honestly, Patch. How did you know exactly how I feel? Was it _that_ obvious that I'd never done anything like this?" I groan and drop my face into my hands. _Way to go, Nora_, I think to myself, thinking back on my actions. _He'll _really_ want you once he sees that you can't even think about _that_ without acting like a scared child. _

"Angel. Stop that. Don't be embarrassed." He pries my fingers from my face and holds our hands in front of us. By now, we've left the bathroom and crossed the bedroom. He guides us down and we sit on the edge of the bed, crossing our legs Indian-style.

"Angel. Do you want to hear how I knew?" I nod slightly, still not meeting his eyes. "I can finish your sentence because I _know_ you. As in, I know you better than anyone else on this earth, probably better than I know myself. I love you and I'll do anything to make sure that nothing comes between us."

It felt good to have someone care for me that much. Patch deserved the same.

I meet his eyes. "Patch, it's true; I'm scared and nervous and wildly embarrassed. And you have been more than patient and understanding. But…" I waver, trying to get the words out that he needs to hear. "But Patch, I wouldn't be able to give you what you give me. You're perfect and you've got a hell of a lot more experience than I do. I'm just a naïve, stupid girl, who's a… a… virgin!" I blurt out, color flaming my cheeks. _Why in the _hell_ did I just say that? Just kill me now. _

This would be a perfect opportunity for Patch to make a couple suggestive jokes, in his usual Patch way. But he doesn't. He just chuckles once and shakes his head. He cups my blushing cheek with his hand and says, "Oh, my innocent Angel. First off, you have given me everything I have ever dreamed of just by being you. Second, I bet you'd be surprised at how little experience I have. Really. It's just that, no one's been it for me… before you."

His jaw tenses, and I can tell he's thinking about his next words, trying to phrase them delicately. "And most importantly," he says after a moment, "Your virginity isn't something to be ashamed of Nora. It's admirable that you respect yourself, and it's one of the things I love most about you."

His expression is full of love; an expression that I'll never get tired of. But in the same breath, his eyes darken and he suddenly tenses yet again. "And besides, it's a comfort to me to know that no man has ever touched you like that. Nora, if anyone had ever mistreated you, I'd… I'd…"

I squirm under his serious gaze and I whisper quietly, "Patch, I can promise you that you're the only man that I would ever even _want_ to touch me like that."

Patch throws me one of his crooked smiles and says, "I'll hold you to that, Angel."

* * *

**Patch POV**

How did I get so lucky?

That's what running through my mind as I watch Nora sleep – that I'm with the most amazing woman. I realize now that I watch her sleep quite often, or as often as I can, but I can't bring myself to stop. Her face when she sleeps is so beautiful and relaxed. It brings me joy when I know that she's sleeping peacefully. With all of the chaos and stress that reality has brought us, it's comforting to know that at least one of us is getting sleep. Right now, it's 8 a.m. I've been awake since 3 a.m., only managing a couple hours rest.

Since I came home to Nora yesterday, I have been near to completely healed. All that's left is a few scratches on my knuckles. Hell, it's great to be able to feel, but I took quite a beating when that son of a bitch attacker was taken care of._ Let's be real, he took the bigger beating_, I think to myself. But however much I was hurting, I did my best to cover up the pained expressions. Coming home to Nora looking like that was hard enough; I didn't want to let her know how bad it really was.

But now, the cuts and bruises are gone. So I'll do my best to make sure that it's as if it never happened.

The only thing is, some archangels helped me get rid of that piece of dirt. I know that they'll want me to do something for them in return down the road. A kind of 'I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine' deal. I can only hope that they'll forget about it. But what am I kidding? That's just wishful thinking; archangels don't easily forget.

When Nora was asking about what happened, I made sure not to lie. Trusting relationships don't have lies. But I didn't lie, did I? She's just on a need to know basis with the situation. I give her the information if she asks. I told her that the archangels helped me and then I moved on quickly. I'm just trying to protect her from the corruption of the archangels. She doesn't need another stress in her life, she's got plenty.

"If you're gunna continue to stare at me while I sleep, will you at least pretend to look guilty when I wake up and catch you?" Nora says from my side, not even opening her eyes. Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I nearly jump out of my skin and grab the headboard so I won't slide off the silk sheets. This gets a rise out of Nora. She's smiling softly and still trying to fully wake up.

"Geez, Angel. Its not even light out and you're already trying to kill me today." I huff, sitting up against the headboard and situating myself. I run my hand over her arm that is extended towards me.

Nora raises her eyebrow at me. "Says the guy who's probably been watching me all night. How do I know you weren't about to murder me in my sleep?"

"I guess that we'll never know now, will we?" I grin mischievously. We lay there for a while, me sitting up and her lying on her stomach. We're pretty content just being there, watching each other in the early morning. The light starts to stream in through the blinds and fall on us.

Finally I say, "What's on the agenda for today Angel?" She shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, pretending to think really hard. Her face is scrunched up in mock-frustration, trying to remember if we had any plans.

She lets out a big sigh and says, "I don't know. Do we have anything planned? Don't tell me it's some important anniversary today that I'm forgetting." Her eyebrows draw together and I can tell that she's ready to apologize for whatever she's missing.

"No, I don't think we have anything planned. And I certainly hope it isn't any type of anniversary. Because if it is, both of us would have forgotten."

I reach out and play with a strand of her hair, twirling it around my fingers. It catches the light and glows a soft copper. I wouldn't dare comment on it, because she is adamant that her hair is NOT red. I think that when I say it's red, she gets annoyed with me. So I just keep this to myself, appreciating the beauty that she refuses to see.

Nora lifts her head off the bed and props herself up on her forearms. "Patch."

"Yes, Angel?" I continue the twirling, but I let my eyes move to hers.

"Let's go on a date." _A date, _I think to myself_, that wasn't expected._

The edge of my mouth shoots up in a smile. "A date? We aren't even _dating_ yet?" My eyes widen and I jump off the bed in a hurry, still grinning.

She bolts upright and drags the sheets to her chest. "What? Why did you jump out of bed like that?" She looks confused and nervous, probably wondering what it was that made me move away from her like she had the plague or something.

I hold up my hands and take a step back. "Nora. I am SO sorry. If I had known that we weren't even dating, I would never have made you sleep in my bed with me! Don't worry, tonight I'll sleep on the couch and –"

"Patch!" Her eyebrows drop and she shakes her head at my game.

She moves to her knees on the bed so she can reach out and grab me back. But when she does, she lets the silk sheet fall that was covering her. If she had made a move to grab it back and cover herself, I would have respectfully averted my eyes. But she remains still and locks my eyes with hers, a clear statement for me.

"I uh, guess I was feeling overheated last night." She whispers and looks down, blushing slightly. But when she looks back up, there's a sort of resolve in her eyes. And she doesn't back down under my startled gaze.

She's propped up on her knees on the bed in nothing but a lace bra and some boy shorts. For the first time, she is actually inviting me to observe her. Her hands dangle by her sides, unsure of what to do. The way her hair falls down her shoulders and around her chest makes me shiver with desire. I rein it in and keep my body still. It's like I'm face to face with a wild animal – I'm afraid I'll scare her off if I make any sudden movements.

She continues to look at me, a question on her face. I realize that I'm just standing there and not saying anything, so I quickly regain my composure and speak.

"Angel," I say, taking small steps towards the bed, "You are so beautiful."

Once the fronts of my knees hit the bed, she slowly reaches out a shaky hand and touches the side of my face. Her other hands snakes up my chest and then runs through my hair. Our foreheads lean together and meet.

Nora brings her lips to mine, brushing our noses and tilting her head. She leans forward slightly and grabs the back of my head, softly tugging at my hair and forcing us closer. Each second, the kiss becomes deeper and filled with more desperate need. Our lips dance harmoniously, fueled by passion and desire. Every ounce of control I have is being used to take it slow and let her lead.

"Patch," she pulls away and whispers, trying to catch her breath. "On second thought, let's just stay home today."

I grin mischievously and say, "I was beginning to think you'd never ask." I wink and move to kiss her again. She greets my advance hungrily, gripping my forearms and ensuring that I won't move.

Even though her moves are desperate and full of desire, they are completely confident and certain. Nora has obviously made up her mind, and she's set on her actions, fully aware of what she is doing. There is no hesitancy anymore. Only determination and love.

She pulls me onto the bed and pushes me down onto my back until she swings her legs over me. Now, she's straddling me and driving her hips downward.

_Eager, are we?_ I say, smirking and raising one eyebrow. This prompts Nora to growl and silence me with her mouth. Her fierceness is new and alarming. Don't get me wrong – I _love_ it. Nora taking control is something new, yet it seems so right, so familiar and easy. I don't have to worry about taking it too far for her – because she's already five steps ahead of me.

She stills suddenly mid-kiss and pulls back slowly, dragging her hands down my chest as she sits up. She looks me in the eye and opens her mouth to say something, but closes it.

I use this time and catch her off guard, pushing her shoulders playfully back and switch my position so that I'm the one pinning her down. She giggles and squirms under me, but I hold my ground and keep her pinned. Once again she stills, and once again she tries to catch my eyes. "What is it, Angel?" I whisper against her skin as I bring my mouth to the curve where her shoulder meets her neck. Her silence makes me look at her; only a minute ago she was so sure of herself.

She opens her mouth and mumbles something, even my hearing couldn't catch. As if she just breathed the words. I search her eyes with a question on my face, urging her to say it again.

"Make love to me, Patch," she whispers.

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**A/N: It's getting hot in here... that is all. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: Hello! Sorry for the delay again, blame the perfectionist in me. I guess, sorry in advance for this chapter? Don't freak! I have a plan people! It'll all work out. So review, people! Let me know your thoughts! They keep me motivated, for sure.  
Okay, rant over. Take it away Nora.**

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**Nora POV**

I wake to the smell of pancakes. If this start is any indication of how the rest of my day will go, it's looking like a good day. _But I'm not sure_ _if anything will be able to top yesterday_, I think to myself.

I'd be lying if I said that yesterday wasn't one of the best days of my life. Patch and I stayed home all day, lounging around and … having fun. Thinking about it brings a smile to my face. I sit up in bed and run my fingers over the silk sheets, slowly waking up and getting my bearings. What passed between Patch and I yesterday still seems… surreal. The whole experience, it just feels like a dream.

It's only when I begin to move off the bed that I know it definitely _wasn't_ a dream. I ache all over – places that have _never_ ached before. When I stand, my legs wobble and I grab the night stand for support. I laugh at my clumsiness and then clutch my aching abdomen when my chuckles hurt. As I bend over and clutch the night stand with my right hand and my stomach with my left, my freaking back spasms. I give up and fall back onto the bed, shaking out a crick in my neck. _What do they call it?_ I think to myself. _Oh yeah, sexercise._ That was one hell of a workout.

After a few minutes of self-pity, I push myself off the bed and ignore the achy-ness. If I'm being honest with myself, it was totally worth it.

When I catch a glimpse in the mirror, I wish I didn't. Two words: my hair. But, I leave it alone and decide not to anger the beast. And who knows, maybe Patch likes the sex-ruffled hair. I slip into one of Patch's button-down shirts, roll up the sleeves, and wrap my arms around myself. I follow my nose and stumble towards the smell of breakfast cooking.

There are only two categories of food that Patch has mastered: Mexican food and breakfast food. I swear, he could live off of tacos and pancakes. But technically, he doesn't need food, so the irony is not lost on me.

To my delight, there is a feast prepared for breakfast. I realize just how hungry I am as I look at it. Patch made perfect looking pancakes and cut up some fruit for a fruit salad. There's a faint trace of smoke in the air, probably from the pancakes. I can imagine Patch running to grab a towel and fan the smoke away from the smoke detector, so that I wouldn't wake up to its loud and incessant beeping.

I walk over to the island and I'm about to take a seat when I look around. There's only one thing missing. Patch.

Frowning, I squint at the food and mumble, "Where did your chef go?" When the pancakes don't answer, I huff and shake my head. I must be hungrier than I thought. I've starting talking to the food.

I retreat from the island and wander out of the kitchen in search of Patch. I search the dining room and have no luck. But then, I walk into the living room and look out the double French doors that lead onto the balcony. Aha! There he is, standing with his back to me gripping the railing. The light breeze throws a ripple through his tee-shirt, and the sun makes his hair shine.

I smile and rush over to the doors, throw them open, and say, "Patch! What are you doing out here!"

My smile fades when he turns to face me. He looks surprised to see me. "Wha-" I begin to say. My words stick in my throat when I see that he's holding his cell phone. His arm brings it down from his ear and he holds it against his chest.

"Angel, I'll be inside in a minute. Go start breakfast." He holds up his finger to say 'one minute' again. I robotically turn and open the door to go inside. I'm a little surprised and at a loss for words. Uhm. That was weird. Usually, I'd imagine that he'd open his arms and let me stand there while he finishes his conversation. That's another thing; who was on the phone? I shake my head to clear my thoughts. It's probably his like, landlord or something. What do I know?

But as I sit down and stab pancakes onto my plate, I'm still thinking too much. It's not like he's chatting with a friend. All his 'friends' - namely Rixon - are locked in hell. It's not a relative. He doesn't have any relatives – at least none he has told me about. And after that, I'm all out of options.

An idea pops into my head.

_Nope. Nora, don't even think about it. Stop thinking about it, Nora!_ My conscience yells at me, futilely trying to deter me. _Shut up conscience_, I yell mentally back. _I listen to you _far_ too many times for my own good. Besides, what Patch doesn't know won't hurt him… I just hope it won't hurt me, _I add as an afterthought.

So as I attune my super-human hearing to Patch's phone conversation, I push that snarky bitch of a conscience to the recess of my mind.

"…Listen, it isn't the best time right now." I hear Patch whisper angrily.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling." The disembodied voice on the other end of the phone sounds gruff and deep. Even I can tell that it's a person of authority, bossing Patch around this way.

Patch sighs and responds, "Fine. When?" I can hear him gnash his teeth together in frustration and defeat.

"Tomorrow night. Meet us at the gates on the south wall." The voice sounds smug at Patch's compliance. Patch grunts an acknowledgement as a response. There's a pause before the man's voice says, "… Oh, and Patch? It would be in everyone's best interest to come alone."

The call ends with a click. I hear Patch swear under his breath and push the phone into his jeans pocket.

My very first reaction is one of guilt. I shouldn't have snooped on him like that. We've always had an unspoken agreement to respect each other's privacy. But I couldn't help it. I calm my guilt by reasoning that there shouldn't even be secrets in the first place. But then, once again, I'm at a loss for words. Who the _hell_ was that? What do they want to do to Patch? Even worse, they specifically said to meet at night, near some sort of gated, walled space. That sounds like some shady, dangerous, and downright _illegal_ business to me.

Even more disturbing, it scared me how Patch acted on the phone. He seemed so angry at first, and at one stern command from the caller, he gave in. This person must be really intimidating for Patch to throw in the towel like that. I shudder at the thought of this powerful person. And to top it all off, the creeper actually told Patch to come alone for 'everyone's best interest'. What the actual hell?

At this point, I haven't even had a second to think about why Patch isn't confiding in me and keeping me in the loop. I'm still trying to figure out exactly _what_ it is that I've missed out on. My mind is reeling. But seconds later, when I hear Patch amble towards the kitchen, I do my best to cover up any emotion on my face. If Patch is keeping secrets, he doesn't have to know that I overheard his little conversation. It's childish, I know, but...

He strolls in, scowling at his feet. When he looks up and sees me, his expression clears and is replaced by a tight smile.

"Hey babe. Who was on the phone?" On the outside, my innocent expression gives nothing away, I'm sure. I've mastered the innocent questioning look from years of practice with my mom. But on the inside, I'm shooting daggers at him and just _daring_ him to lie to me. Go ahead, Patch. Who knows what he'll say.

He gives me a seemingly easy smile, but I know that it's forced. He is trying to act like nothing is wrong and says, "Oh, that? That was just someone from Bo's. Sorry to keep you waiting, Angel." He slides into the bar-stool next to me and wraps his hands around my waist. I want to pull away so badly because of this vague and suspicious answer, but I resist. And he will _not_ succeed at changing the topic.

Still feigning innocence, I raise an eyebrow at him and lean into his side. "What did they want?"

"Just some talks about wrapping up a deal." He playfully squeezes my sides and kisses the top of my head. While he can't see, I roll my eyes. I imagine that his eyes are squeezed shut, and he's praying I won't ask anything further.

But I won't let this continue to the point of no return. Couples don't lie to each other. WE don't lie to each other.

I push away from him and scoot my stool back. I don't trust myself to stay strong if we're touching. "Patch. This needs to stop. I know that wasn't a buddy from your pool group. I listened to your phone call, and I truly am sorry for that, but we can't lie to each other."

His eyes darken and he whispers, "I never said it was a pool deal."

I throw my hands up and huff out a sound of exasperation. "Patch!" I yell. "This isn't _you_. Whatever this guy said is obviously bothering you, making you keep things from me, making you distance yourself. Don't shut me out, Patch. Don't you dare shut me out."

He looks at me a moment longer before he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. His arms muscles flex deliciously as he clenches his hands into fists. _So_ _not the _time_, Nora. We're mad at him_.

He looks up at me, stone-faced. "Nora." Shit, things are serious when he drops his little nickname. "I can't put you in harm's way. Please, I'm asking you nicely to stay out of it."

I stand up. He mirrors my action. I get dangerously close, until we're nearly chest to chest. I lean in, squint my eyes and whisper, "You _won't_ tell me what to do, Jev." I find that whispering makes my delivery sound more threatening. And if he didn't feel threatened enough by that, I used his freaking real name. Which I _never_ do.

He narrows his eyes are retorts loudly, "God, Nora. I will NOT risk you this time. If you're mad at me, fine! Stay mad at me! I'm not keeping things from you because I want to. I'm keeping things from you to protect you!" His eyes burn with conviction, begging me to see things his way. But in this case, I just can't understand.

I squint my eyes right back at him and my mouth drops open in a look of disbelief. "You think this is _protecting_ me? Can't you see that all its doing is hurting me?" I calm my breathing for a moment and say, "I'll give you one last chance. Tell me what this is about."

He doesn't respond. His silence is louder than anything he could have said.

I make a move to step back, to get away from this whole situation. But as soon as I step back, Patch reaches out and grabs my arm to stop me. His fingers grip my forearm, his hand big enough to encircle my whole wrist. It isn't a terrible, excruciating, leaving-bruises type of grip, but I pull my arm away as if it had burned me. "Don't." I growl.

He immediately pulls his hand back and runs it through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in what looks like pain, but I know that it is frustration. He huffs, "I'm sorry – it's just, just… I need you to stay out of this."

I cross my arms over my chest and say, "No, Patch. I won't just 'stay out' of it."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and says, "Can't you ever just _do as you're told_?"

I slap him across his face. Hard. The sound of flesh on flesh resonates through the room. I've never slapped anyone. Ever. But damn, it felt good. His face is turned slightly from the impact and he stares off into space for a minute or two. My hand stings, as I'm sure his cheek does, and adrenaline is pumping through me. When he looks back at me, he whispers, "I guess I deserved that."

"No shit, Patch! Don't ever tell me to do as I'm told. I'm not some play object that you can boss around and tell what to do!" I resume my crossed-arms stance and I let those words sink in.

Unfortunately, my mind wanders in the space of those two seconds. It comes to a horrible, gut-wrenching conclusion. My face falls, along with my arms to my sides, and I'm sure my eyes glaze over. I begin in a soft voice, "…Is that what I am Patch? A play object? Something you screw in bed for kicks and hope they don't get too involved? Because that's sure as hell how I feel right now."

His face looks horrified. He rushes to apologize and assure me that I'm not just a play toy. But I can't even listen.

Suddenly, I feel disgusting. Standing in front of him, _wearing his shirt_. I can't get away fast enough. I run through the halls and burst into the master bedroom… our bedroom. When I take one look at the bed, the rumpled sheets, the evidence of its use yesterday, I can't stand it. The thought of us together make me nauseous, and I run into the bathroom.

He's right on my heels, begging me to 'wait', and to 'let him explain'. I slam the bathroom door in his face. I don't really care anymore. Somewhere along the way, I started crying. Not sobbing, just crying.

As I listen to Patch knock on the door, I walk over to it. I turn around, lean my back against it, and slide down to the floor. My knees are curled and my arms encase them. I rest my chin on my knees and squeeze my eyes shut, letting a few stray tears run their course. I haven't gotten to the self-pity level of rocking myself yet, but I'm sure it'll come.

He's still knocking. He whispers through the woodwork, "I'm sorry, Nora. So sorry. Please come out." He makes a sliding sound, which means he is now sitting on the floor on the other side.

I mumble a "just leave me alone," and he goes silent. I know he's still sitting there, but he doesn't say anything else. As much as I hate to admit it, I would be sad if he got up from the floor.

We sit there, separated by the bathroom door, for hours. I drift into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

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**A/N: An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: You guys rock! Thanks for the reviews. I loved your reactions to the fight scene. Here's a super long chapter, because this story is kind of taking off! It's going really well and its a helluva lot of fun to write. I've been trying to get back to everyone that reviewed, so I hope you got it! Thanks a bunches, hush-hushers. Enjoy!**

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**Patch POV**

Realistically, I knew that perfect happiness doesn't last forever - but I sure as hell hoped it would've lasted longer than twelve hours. It was literally only yesterday that Nora and I were fine. We were better than fine, actually. We were happy and connected in a way that seemed unbreakable. Now, yesterday seems like years ago.

Let's recap this shitty day. This morning, I was practically summoned for what I'm calling a 'deal'. Then, Nora and I got into and argument. During this argument, I (deservedly) got slapped across the face. And now, we're sitting on opposite sides of our bathroom doorway, not even talking, and I made her cry. Let's add this to the list of worst days ever.

I'm purposely trying not to dwell on the meeting tomorrow night too much. I'm afraid that if I do, Nora will overhear my thoughts and figure out the plans. Call me unreasonable, but if she does, there is a large chance that she'll try to stop me - or worse, join me. I'm being super paranoid and even more of a jerk, but I wouldn't put anything past a pissed off nephilim. I trust her implicitly, I really do, but I can't leave this one up to chance. So for now, the a-hole that I am, the 'meeting' is not even on my mind.

Instead, I bring my thoughts back to the fight. Nora and I have never fought like this. Sure, we've had disagreements about stupid things, like whose turn is it to do laundry (it's usually mine), or who left clutter lying around (usually me). But this was different. This mega blowup was completely new to us. I mean, she used _my name_. My head drops into my hands when I remember that the only other time she used my real name recently was when we were having sex.

Which brings us to point number five million why I am a horrible person: I made her feel like a… whore. When she accused me of just using her 'for kicks', I can say with certainty that I've never felt that low. The look in her eyes told me how much she believed that it was true - that I didn't feel anything for her. Of course, I immediately denied it and tried to tell her it wasn't true, but she had already convinced herself of it. There wasn't anything I could do as the love of my life broke down every confidence we had built. Nora ran to our master bathroom and locked herself in. I banged on the door, begging her to let me in so I could explain. The only response I could make out over her crying was a mumbled 'just leave me alone'. So we sat, for hours, back to back against the door.

I assume she's fallen asleep hours ago because the sniffling had stopped and all I hear now is her light, even breathing. I can only hope her dreams are more pleasant than her reality. I'm guessing that it's around two o'clock in the afternoon, but there isn't a clock in my line of sight. The only measure I have is the sun, and the patches of light that have slowly crept their way across the room.

After a long period of silence, Nora's cell phone dings loudly with a new text message. She must have grabbed it on her mad dash to get away because the sound comes from the other side of the door. I hear her shuffle slowly awake, stretching and popping joints from the unforgiving floor. She unlocks her phone, I assume she reads the message, and sighs. I hold my breath, not wanting to draw attention to myself in any way.

"I know you're out there, Patch…" She says in a low voice. I clear my throat to respond but stop when I hear her stand up. I stand up as well, trying to quickly de-wrinkle my clothes and run my hands through my hair.

The door knob turns and I freeze, my arms hanging awkwardly. I stuff them in my pockets. The door opens with a squeak and I see Nora, standing shyly and leaning on the door. Her eyes are rimmed with red and her cheeks are flushed. She opens her mouth to talk, probably to tell me to go to hell or something. But her words surprise me. She whispers, "Thanks for staying here with me." My eyes relax and crinkle as I smile and say, "Always, Angel."

I take a step towards her, reaching out to touch her arm, her hair, anything. But she takes a half-step back, as if to say, 'I haven't forgiven you that easily.' I get the hint and prop myself up against the doorway, waiting for her to make the next move. She crosses her arms and looks at her feet.

"I think I'm going to take a shower…" she trails off, biting her lip.

Without thinking, I smirk and say, "Soap. Shampoo. Hot water. Naked. I know the drill." Once the words leave my mouth my grins falters. Even _I_ knew that it was not the appropriate time for jokes, and I usually find any time to be a good time to give a smart remark. Her face drops and her eyes wander as she remembers the first time we had that conversation. I'm sure she's wishing she was back in those days of blissful innocence.

I nod to myself and start to turn away, mumbling an "okay, sorry" and giving her some space and privacy. But I have to say something first. I spin on my feet to face her. "Nora. I'm so sorry that I've messed this up. Messed _us_ up. I am the biggest jerk ever. I just want to say-"

She holds up her hand, halting me mid-sentence. "Please…" she begs, looking sad, "we don't have to get into this right now, Patch. I think we both need time to... process." I blink a few times, stunned, and nod. She lets her hand fall to the door and she slowly pushes it closed. The resounding click of the door seems loud and final.

I flop myself onto the bed, telling myself that I'll get up in a minute. I hear the shower start. I've been driving myself a little crazy the past few hours, staying wide awake, torturing myself for being this way. Maybe I'm just a bad person, and there isn't anything that will make me change. But I sure as hell have to try, for Nora's sake. The rhythmic beating of the water is soothing. My eyes droop and I allow myself to fall asleep.

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**Nora POV**

I stand under the shower head and let the scorching hot water flow over me. Feeling this burning pain on my shoulders makes me forget all the _real_ pain – the pain that waits for me as soon as I get out of the shower. The water that runs on my face makes it hard to tell if I'm crying or not. I assume that I am, because I've been crying more often than not for the past 12 hours. The steam in the room clouds my vision. Or is that the tears? Gahh, I don't know... stupid emotions.

Why do showers always make people think more? My mind wanders back to a few minutes earlier, when I opened the door and saw Patch. Saying that those few words were passed a little awkwardly would be the understatement of the year. You could practically cut the tension with a butter knife. And God, he'd even cracked a joke. _"Soap. Shampoo. Hot water. Naked. I know the drill."_ He'd said the same exact thing when we first started to get to know each other. What I wouldn't give to go back to those days.

I think back to this morning, when I was uncomfortably asleep on the tiled floor. What woke me up was the loud ding of my cell phone receiving a text. I guess I grabbed my cell on my way running to the bathroom. I honestly didn't remember getting it, but at least my subconscious had my back for these types of things. When I squinted into the bright screen, I was shocked to see a text from my best friend, Vee. Wasn't she in England with Gavin? It had read: _Hey babe! Surprise! You'll never guess: I'm in town for a cousin's bridal shower (bo-ring)! Come over ASAP and we'll catch up! XO. _I couldn't believe that Vee was in Coldwater. I definitely need some Vee time. She must have some telepathy, knowing exactly when I need to talk to her. Knowing her, she probably did have telepathy or some freaky shit.

Moving back to reality, I decide to shut down my thoughts for a minute of peace inside my head. I pretend that I'm the old, naïve Nora, still in high school, and my biggest problem was a biology assignment. I begin to move through the motions mechanically. Shampoo. Condition. Rinse. Repeat.

Once I felt sufficiently clean and my legs started to stiffen from standing, I turned the shower off. Stepping out of the glass door with a puff of smoke, my toes wiggle into the plush bath mat and I wrap myself in a towel. Savoring these last few moments of pampering, I take a step towards the mirror so I can dry my hair.

However, mid-stride, my body seems to think twice about cooperating. My gut twists and a sharp pain rips through my whole body. I dart over to the toilet, desperately hoping that I won't cover the walls with my throw up. I just barely make it, wrenching my stomach into the bowl. I feel like someone has wrung out my stomach like a dish towel. There isn't much to come up, considering my lack of breakfast that morning. So the next minute, I find myself dry-heaving. I try to lie down and lean my cheek against the cool floor tiles. It's so much cooler on the floor. I need to get lower… because heat rises, is that it? Did I learn that in chemistry or physics? Why does it matter? Oh God, I'm going to throw up again.

I'm stopped by a frantic knocking on the door. It's Patch. He's yelling, "Nora? Angel, what's going on? Can I come in? Please, Nora. The door's locked." He jiggles the handle and beats on the door with his other hand.

I'm afraid that more things than words will come out of my mouth if I open it, so I clamp my hand over my mouth and opt for mind speak. _Patch, this isn't pretty. Don't come in. _

I can feel his panic as I share this thought in his mind and not out loud. He speaks back to me, "Nora, listen, I'm – I'm sorry, but I need to come in. Just- just stand back, okay?" The waver in his voice betrays his attempt at appearing calm.

My eyes are closed as I lie on the floor, but I hear him open the locked door with force. He's at my side in under a second, lifting my limp head off the floor and pushing the wet hair off my face. He's whispering, "oh, Angel..." like I'm about to vanish or something. After a moment of thought, I decide that it's too late to try to be modest; my towel is only barely covering my body. I'm surprised it's stayed on at all. Nothing he hasn't seen before, Nora. But Patch doesn't seem to notice, all he can do is look at me and try to figure out what's wrong. I mean, nephilim don't get _sick_. But I come up with a reasonable excuse anyway. I push away his worried hands and say in a quiet voice, "Patch. I'm sure it's just exhaustion or dehydration or something. I'm fine."

He looks skeptical and nervous when he replies, "Angel, you're not fine, you just threw up everything you had in your stomach and nearly passed out on the floor. You need to rest and drink fluids." Seeing his panic, I nod in submission.

At this point, I attempt to regain some lost dignity and I try to pull the towel over my still-dripping body. I can't meet Patch's eyes when he helps me get myself together. He pulls my hair back and quickly braids it, getting it out of my face. I grab the edge of the sink and pull myself up, careful not to fall. But once I'm up, my head spins and dizziness makes the room tilt. My knees shake and clank together. Patch notices my fumbles and grips me under my arms, steadying me. I lean on him for support and mentally thank him, suddenly too exhausted for words.

He leads me back to the bed, quickly grabbing my damp towel and switching it for a soft robe before I even knew what he was doing. Goosebumps rise on my skin from the seconds of exposure, I make a sound of surprise, and he was sensitive enough to avert his eyes. I lie back, or rather he pushes my shoulders gently back, and snuggle under the covers. He sits beside me on the bed, over the covers, unsure of what to do.

After only a couple minutes, I feel much better. It's good to know that my freaky nephilim healing powers haven't _totally_ abandoned me. I really do think it was just dehydration and exhaustion. The freak momentary episode of nausea has passed, and it doesn't feel like it's coming back anytime soon. I keep my eyes closed though. When I open them five minutes later, Patch is still sitting next to me, as if he's keeping watch or waiting for me to be sick again. I raise an eyebrow at him and contort my face. He raises one right back in question. I relax my face and whisper, "Thank you." It catches him off guard and he asks the specific reason I'm thanking him. After a moment, I reply, "For breaking down the door even though I told you not to."

"Anytime, Angel." He replies. Only this time, it isn't with a smirk or wink, he's completely serious.

I bite my lip and just enjoy Patch's company in silence. I can't deny that I'm pretending that everything is normal right now; that we aren't fighting or lying to each other.

In these moments of silence, an idea starts to slowly form in my head. But it order to even think about setting my plan into motion, I need Patch gone. Not gone from my life of course, just gone from the apartment for a bit. So when my stomach grumbles, quite loudly, I take this as the perfect opportunity. "Patch," I begin, grabbing his attention. "Babe, do you think you could do something for me?" I bat my eyelashes a few times and work the charm.

"Of course!" he says, sitting up a little straighter. I know that he's dying to help, in any way. "What do you need?"

Seeing his look of expectation and relief that he's needed, I feel a twinge of guilt. I push it down and continue on with my plan, but that guilt is making it hard to look him in the eye. I fiddle with a string on the blanket and say, "Uhm, well. Maybe could you pick some things up for me? You know, from the store?" _Of course it's from the store, stupid_, I tell myself.

He nods right away and repeats himself, "What do you need, Angel? Anything."

_Oh God, he's gunna do it. Well, I have to commit myself to this part._ I mentally face-palm myself and say, "Oh, uh, okay. Could you get some migraine pills? I feel a headache coming on. And uh… some chocolate. Yeah, lots of chocolate!" I feel my eyes go wide and I'm sure I look crazy.

Patch laughs and pulls my head towards him, kissing the top of my head. He makes a move to get up and go, but I grab his arm and say, "Wait! Uh, one more thing." He raises his eyebrows, waiting to hear. I need to make sure he's gone a while, and he isn't suspicious. If this last part doesn't cover and explain my actions, I don't know what else will. "Could you pick up some… ya know, feminine products?" I watch his eyes go wide for a second but he regains his composure. And then his next words surprise me.

"Anything for you, Angel." My mouth drops open, but I quickly shut it. He winks and says, "I'm not sure how smoothly that pickup will go, but I'd do it for you."

I know I'm blushing furiously, but I just have to get through this and he'll leave. The words just tumble out of my mouth. "Oh, uh, that's great. Thanks Patch. I just, uh, I'm probably just pms-ing or something. That's why I was so upset and mad at you. And I'm sure that's why I threw up, too." I bite my lip and add, for good measure, "That's probably why I'm craving chocolate." The corner of his mouth twitches up in a smile. I say, "…like, _really_ craving it."

He suddenly gets the hint and jumps up from the bed. "Right, my cue to go." He tugs on a jacket, steps into his shoes, and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. As he walks through the bedroom door, he turns and says, "Please rest, Nora. I want you feeling better. I'll be back quicker than you can say... _chocolate_." With a wink, he's gone.

_I sure as hell hope you're not that quick, _I think and drop my smile as soon as I hear the front door shut. I hop out of the bed and walk to the window, pulling aside the curtain just enough to peer out. I look just in time to see Patch's Jeep pull out of the car garage and into the street.

Dropping the curtain, I run back to the bathroom and my eyes scour the small room for one thing. My cell phone. It was sitting with me all morning, and I left it in there after I got in the shower. My eyes hone in on it, sitting on the counter. I rush over to it, knowing that my time alone is limited.

I grab it, run to the closet, and get whatever clothes of mine I see first. Which end up being jeans and a loose sweater. I pull them on, tripping around my closet as I struggle to be quick. I fly back to my phone, my sweater still half on. My fingers type furiously fast as I send a text message. It reads, _Vee – I'm coming over. Be there soon. Delete this message when you get it._ I hit send.

I scribble a quick note to Patch on a scrap of paper, and I leave it on the bed. It says some crap about how I'm feeling better, how I'm super-sorry for flaking, but I went over to Vee's for the night! _Wa-hoo, girls night!,_ it reads, and I hope he can't see right through it.

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A/N: I hit 5,000 views! Now if I could just get that many reviews... hehe. jk. Review with thoughts, or suggestions, or guess what will happen! (;


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Hey people! Been sooo busy, went to the Grand Canyon. But, I've managed to write this chapter! This one and the last chapter were super awesome to write, I hope you like it! Lollololol at Patch's experience in the store in this chapter, he would so do anything for Nora. (; Warning for some readers, there is an itty-bitty lemon in here. A mini-lemon. A lime, if you will. Enjoy!

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**Patch POV**

Well, shit.

I guess this is what girls feel like when they have to pick up, like, motor oil or something. This is just a _little_ far out of my comfort zone. Just a little.

I'm standing in the aisle at the grocery store. Well, I'm hoping I'm in the right aisle; I'm standing before probably a good one million different types of product. _God, is there even a difference?_ I think to myself. I'm sure if a woman heard me say that I'd get smacked upside the head and given a lecture on the topic. I clench my fists and grind my teeth in frustration. _C'mon, Patch. This should be freaking simple. You've been through more trying situations before_.

I look both ways down the aisle. Thankfully, it isn't too crowded; only the occasional shopper passes at the end. I've already gotten the medicine and chocolate, so there's nothing left to do.

_What the hell? _I think as I pull at the collar of my shirt, which suddenly seems to be strangling me. The light in the ceiling feels like it's shining down its own special spotlight, just for me. Its loud buzzing seems even louder in my ears. _It's like I'm in a freaking horror movie, _I think_. Maybe I'll be brutally murdered and I won't have to pick this out. Yep, that would be okay. _

I shake my head and clear my thoughts. I'm just going to do it. Dive in. Bite the bullet. Here I –

"Can I help you find anything, hun?"

Shit! I nearly jump out of my skin and I drop everything I was holding. I scramble to pick everything up, cursing myself internally. Real smooth, Patch. When I stand up and turn around, I see a young woman, probably in college, trying to conceal her laughter. At first, I think she's just mocking me, but I realize she works there when my eyes land on her nametag. Becca. I give her a sly smile back, regaining my composure and what dignity I had. She's still standing there, waiting expectantly for my answer and continuing to hold her laugh. _Well, Becca, queen of making people uncomfortable. Two can play at that game... Besides, I'm the king of making people uncomfortable._

"Oh, uh … Becca, is it?" I turn on the smolder and innocently ask her name. She nods and tries to keep her gaze focused on my face. I make her squirm with the eye contact and say, "Would you like to… recommend something for me? Personal favorite, maybe?" I gesture largely at the shelves in front of me with a smirk on my face. She blanches and stammers, not able to get any words out. She clearly wasn't expecting this; she was just hoping I would start a conversation.

I save her before she has a coronary by saying, "Oh, I meant to say, I appreciate the help, but I think I've got it. _My girlfriend_ gave me a few pointers. Trained me well, you could say. Thanks though." I give her a dazzling smile. She looks away, blushes and mutters, 'yeah, of course' before hurrying back down the aisle.

Smiling at my little victory, I turn back to the shelf. Now, well, double shit. I _still_ don't really know what I'm doing. But, after a moment more of doubt, I make my best educated guess and stuff the boxes in my arms. I start to turn away, but then I grab another box, in case the others are wrong. Which they probably are. But hey, at least I didn't have a meltdown or something. Crisis averted, for now.

I go to the self check out lane – no way in _hell_ was I going to a cashier – and hurriedly pay. I scoop up the bags and grab my change. The lady at the help kiosk raised an eyebrow and also looked near laughter. I scowl at her and think, _what is _up_ with this staff? Give a guy a break, here._

I hold the receipt in my mouth, the bags in one hand, and I struggle to get my keys out of my pocket with the other hand. I guess I wasn't looking where I was going, because the next thing I know, I've literally run into someone and almost knocked them over. I start to rush out an apology, but as I see the woman's face, my words cut off.

"Oh! Long time no see, Patch." The woman says, a hint of aversion in her voice.

Blinking rapidly, I manage to stammer out, "Yeah, it's been a while, Mrs. Grey."

* * *

**Nora POV**

Well, shit.

I guess I didn't think that far ahead.

I stand in the car garage underneath our apartment and stare at Patch's motorcycle. He took his Jeep to the store, and now I'm left with this death contraption. Of course, he didn't expect that I'd be leaving, or even getting out of bed, so he took the car.

I have no _freaking_ idea how to ride a motorcycle! I've only ever ridden on the back, with Patch in front. I almost turn around and go back, ready to abandon all plans. But I've committed too far to go back now. Hell, I don't have time for this inner debate, the clock is ticking. "Looks like I'll be walking," I say under my breath. I roll my eyes at my horrible luck and even worse planning skills. Even if it were here, I probably would've felt too bad and not taken his car. So walking was practically inevitable. At least I wore my converse sneakers and not some uncomfortable ballet flat.

I jog out of the garage, eager to get off of the property as fast as I can. The sunlight blinds me for a second while my eyes adjust. My hands fly up to my face and I shield it, wishing I brought my sunglasses. With a shock, I realize that I haven't really been outside in a while; I've been cooped up inside for the past three days or so.

I start walking along the side of the road. Immediately, I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Vee. She picks up on the second ring. Without preamble, she says, "I'm excited that you're coming over and all, but… What the _hell_ was that text about, babe?"

I sigh and collect my thoughts. What was I expecting? I knew that she would react this way to my shady text. I stammer, "I- I'm sorry Vee... I just…" I take a deep breath and whisper, "Can you come get me?" My breath hitches on the last word, betraying me. I probably sound like a mess.

She gushes, "Ohmigod babe! Are you okay? Of course I'll come get you… where are you? Did Patch do anything to you? Because if he did, I swear to God I'll come over there and kick his -"

"Vee!" I interrupt, not wanting to hear what she might kick of Patch's. "Vee… I'm fine." I barely look both ways before crossing at an intersection, ignoring the sounds of horns blaring after me.

But she continues, "Nora, you sure as hell don't sound fine. I'm getting in my car now. If that piece of -"

"Church Street." I cut her off again. "I'm going south on Church Street." I sound tired and sad, even to my own ears. Vee probably thinks I'm verging on suicidal.

She sighs and tells me, "I'll be there in a couple minutes, Nora. If this damn person in front of me would just MOVE THEIR ASS." I laugh halfheartedly and say goodbye before hanging up.

I'm walking along, trying to will the tears back into my head. Why am I crying? I put myself in this mess and it's no one's fault but my own. Okay, maybe it's Patch's fault too. But I can't even be mad at him anymore, because I turned around and lied right back to his face. He thinks I'm lying down at home, anxiously awaiting his return. Instead, I'm walking along a major road, crying, and no doubt looking like a homeless person.

I glance up, looking at the cars that are passing me. Karma must be out to get me, because at that exact moment, I see a Jeep, exactly like Patch's, come up over the hill. Headed my way. _Oh no, no no no no_, I think. It's at least a good hundred yards away, but I can't risk him seeing me. I know he'll eventually find out I'm gone, but he would definitely haul my ass back with him if he saw me walking on a busy street. That's not happening.

I literally dive into the bushes next to me, tucking and rolling into – yep, you guessed it - a pricker bush. I harshly mumble a string of curses. I roughly swat the hair out of my eyes and look up just in time to see the car drive right past me. Wait, past me? I catch a quick glimpse of the driver, and – oh! It's not even Patch. Just a random person with a Jeep that looks like his.

Awesome, I think sourly. I jumped into a bed of thorns for nothing. I stand up, picking leaves out of my hair and brushing foliage off of my clothes. Somehow I've gotten a tear in my jeans, and mud and dirt all over me. There's several scratches on my arms and cheeks, but nothing too serious. Carefully, I step through the bushes and head back to the side of the road.

About five long minutes later, Vee pulls up next to me, unlocking her passenger door. I rush over and slide into the seat, closing my eyes and smiling at the comfortable seats. This is the best part of my day. These seats. How sad.

Vee pulls back into traffic, screaming, "NORA! First of all, why are you so dirty? Did you roll around in a pig pen or something? I leave for _two minutes_ and you abandon ALL fashion sense I so desperately tried to teach you. Girl, I don't even care! It's so great to see you!" She squeals and I smile and tell her how much I've missed her, how much I really needed her right now. We exchange pleasantries, delicately skirting around the issue for a minute or two. After a minute of silence, she turns to me, looking incredulous, and says, "Start explaining, Grey."

I revert back to enjoying the comfort of the seats that I was so in love with when I got in the car. I say, "I've missed the Neon. Did you miss the Neon when you were in England? How's Gavin by the way?"

"GREY! Time for that later! Please, just tell me why you're so messed up… it's killing me to see you this way." We speed along the backroads of the town, taking the shortcuts back to Vee's house. Staying silent, I grip the side of the car for support, nearly tumbling forward in my seat when she makes a sudden lurch at a stop sign.

We pull up in her driveway and turn off the car. I fiddle with the seatbelt for as long as I can. Vee and I meet eyes and I can't help it – I slowly melt into tears. What is this, like, the fifth time today? I do this big, ugly, messy cry and Vee understandingly pulls me into her arms across the seats.

"This is bad, Nora. Honestly, I was expecting it to be. But this - this calls for junk food, reality television and nail painting. How does that sound?" She pulls back to look in my face and I only hiccup and give a pathetic nod.

_~ Later ~_

I've told her everything. From the moment I was kidnapped, to escaping the hospital, to recovering, to finding Patch with his mystery phone call, to Patch's departure and my escape. She interjected frequently with her opinion and some more… colorful language. I left out the more, uh, _intimate_ times Patch and I had together, but it'll without a doubt come up soon. She'll likely beat the details of my first time out of me if she had to.

But after I'm done, she sits across from me on the sofa with a look of shock. I think I've overwhelmed her, and Vee Sky _never_ gets overwhelmed. When waving my hand in front of her face doesn't work, I snap my fingers, which brings her straight back to reality. She bites her lip and says, "So Patch is at the store right now, buying you feminine products… and he thinks you're at home, sick and in bed?" I nod, squeezing my lips together and trying to keep my laughter in. We both burst into laughter at the same time, kicking up our feet and nearly falling off the couch. We recover and she high-fives me, telling me how totally badass that is. "Serves him right. I hope he throws a bitch fit when he finds that note."

I sit up suddenly, fishing my phone out of my pocket. Crap, has he called yet, or texted me? I didn't even think. I look at the screen and feel both relief and disappointment. Nothing.

My shoulders lift in what I hope is a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe he's not home yet." She shrugs back and picks up what must be her third donut. We have a buffet of junk food spread in front of us, but my upset stomach tells me I'm not entirely hungry. We sit in comfortable silence, mindlessly watching some reality television show. Somehow, watching someone else's life unravel and then resolve itself in less than 30 minutes makes me believe that my life will work itself out.

After a moment, I feel Vee's harsh stare burn into the side of my head. I bring my gaze to hers, not surprised to find her scrutinizing me and giving me a killer look. I feign a look of innocence. "What?!" I ask, raising one eyebrow and shaking my head towards her. Vee taps her manicured finger on her chin, squinting her eyes and giving a low "hmmm". I wait for the blow, desperately hoping that my expression isn't giving anything away.

"You seem different." She concludes.

I keep an impassive face and reply, "I don't feel all that different." Oh God, she's already on to me.

"Nope," she counters. "Definitely different. What aren't you telling me, Grey?" I noncommittally shrug and focus intensely on the suddenly interesting task of filing my nails. The nail file's rhythm matches the beat of my heart; at this rate, they'll be filed down to the cuticle in no time.

Vee lunges forward on the futon couch towards me, grabbing my wrists to still my frantic nail filing. She looks me square in the eye, daring me to try to get away. Her strength, regardless of her being nephilim or not, always overpowered mine. My shocked look is genuine, I really didn't have to fake it, because her sudden intensity surprised me.

Once she's sure that I won't either run or start the filing again, or both, she looses her grip and leans back. Her passive and calm face does not prepare me for her next statement. "You had sex, didn't you?" And once again, my mouth drops open in shock. How did she guess that on like her first try? It couldn't have been that obvious, could it? Noting my look of shock and my silence, she gasps, "You DID! Nora Grey, you naughty girl!" She's smirking and looking shocked herself.

My mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. I'm not going to _deny_ it. My face is on fire, but Vee doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable I am. She goes on, "Oh COME ON Nora, you don't think I wouldn't have noticed? Well… if we're being honest here, it was lucky guess number one, but it's actually TRUE!"

Me, still gaping, struggling to find the right words or even any words at all, manage to mumble out, "Uh… yeah. We, uh… yeah." _Oh yeah Nora, I'm sure she'll be satisfied with that answer_.

"Oh no no no. That is NOT going to cut it!" she pouts, shaking her head. Vee and I have always shared secrets and juicy details of our lives with each other. I had to suffer through an hour long phone call with her when she called after her honeymoon. Practically the whole hour was spent listening to Vee describe – in detail – her first time with Gavin. And the thirty other times. Gosh they were like bunnies on that trip. NOT that I needed to know that.

"Uh… what do you want to know? It was… great." I sigh and submit to Vee's famous inquisition, answering her questions. I kept most of it to myself, giving her bare minimums. I could tell she wasn't happy, but she was taking what little she would get out of me. What little details I told her certainly brought me back…

* * *

_~Flashback~_

_"Make love to me, Patch." I say again, repeating it so he could hear._

_His eyes go wide with carnal desire and he suppresses a moan that I can feel through the fabric of his shirt. His body weight on top of mine is doing wonders for my self control, really. His face scrunches tightly as he battles himself. "Nora, you're really testing my strength. I won't be able to control myself if you say things like that."_

_"Then don't control yourself." I dare, feeling brave in the moment. Patch snaps like a rubber band, all will shattered as he takes possession of my mouth, securing it with his own and stealing my breath. I only break apart to lift his shirt off and toss it across the room. Our arms and legs are a jumble of limbs, not really ending, just all connected. Because I'm already in my sleepwear of a bra and panties, I mumble against his lips, "You're a little overdressed, Patch." I trace my kisses along his jaw and down to his shoulders, sneaking my hands further down his sides. My fumbling hands reach the waistband of his pants, clumsily trying to undo it. He stills my hands with his and helps me tug them off, leaving him in his boxers. "Better?" he teases, laughing at my blush and nod. He resumes the kiss, grabbing the sides of my head in his hands._

_Just when I think I can't take anymore of this teasing, Patch pulls back and says, "You deserve the best, Angel. So much more than anyone can give you. But if you're willing to accept it, I'll give you everything I have." For some people, this long winded statement might have lessened the passion with the lack of physical contact, but for me, this was better. His words made pressure behind my eyes, threatening tears but being too happy to cry. I bite my lip and say, "You've given more than enough, Patch. And even then, I still want more of you. I want all of you." With Patch still above me, I wrap my legs around him and use my feet to inch his boxers down. He catches my plan and helps, revealing his… erm, impressiveness. My eyes widen for a second but I think, what did I expect; Patch wouldn't be anything less than perfect. _

_He catches my eye and says, "Please don't worry. But now, I'm afraid you are the overdressed one." Patch winks and his hands grab my hips, digging into the fabric of my panties. "Not too fond of these, I hope?" With a gasp, I realize he's torn through them. Oh gosh, that just makes me squirm and pull my legs up to myself. How hot is that? My faces flushes and I say, "Not anymore." He sees my hesitancy and begs, "Don't be shy with me, Nora. It's quite entirely selfish to keep yourself from me." He flashes me his pirate smile, rendering my legs jelly and free. His eyes roam over me, like worshipping or admiring a piece of art. _

_I'm not sure I can form sentences above a third grade level right now. I nod dumbly and urge him on, giving him my full permission. I know I want this. And I know I'll be with Patch forever, so my decision isn't changing. Patch couldn't have been more gentle or understanding of my needs. Several very clumsy moments later, the pain is already forgotten. Everything is forgotten. Only Patch, that's all I know. He's all I know._

_I can't completely see or hear anything, the overload of senses clouding my head. Attempting to pull me back from the clouds, Patch slows and smirks when I exclaim, "What are you doing? Don't stop… please… what-" He silences me with his mouth, mumbling, "Trust me." I'm squirming and going crazy, but I nod because I trust him. Implicitly. So when he begins again, I sigh and give in, swaying my hips for some kind of relief. Any type of friction or movement, I crave it, I need it. He clucks his tongue and mutters, "Uh uh uh. Don't move." Even in the haze of my mind, these words snap me out of it. My eyes snap to his and search them. "What?" I moan, barely able to get the word out. _

_His lips trace my collarbone and I hear him say, "You said you trust me. So don't move. It'll make it feel even better, more intense." My mind is already going crazy with his actions. _Believe me Patch, it's pretty intense already_, I mind-speak to him, squeezing my mouth to hold in a cry. His body reverberates with a chuckle, sending sparks through me. I try to do as he says, holding still and just absorbing it. I want so desperately to bend my legs toward me or move my hips or curl my toes or _anything_, but his gaze reminds me. It really is so much more intense, if that's possible. _

_He sees me start to squirm and whispers, "We can work on that later." His pirate smirk sends me close to the edge. Seeing this as a sign that I can move now, I heave a sigh and try to find some relief. Perfectly attuned to my body, he leans into my ear and his voice caresses me, saying, "Let it go, Angel." Once again, I can't think. I feel my body nearing a cliff, one that is impossible to resisting jumping off of. The feeling is unlike any other. I hear myself calling Patch's name, and I've been tipped over a glorious edge. Now I'm slowly coming back, gathering my senses. That was the most intense, satisfying, pleasurable experience of my life. That I'm sure of. _

* * *

"You in there, babe?" Vee asks, looking at my face for any sign of life. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, worried that she'll see right through me. And, surprise! She does. "Oh my GOD. Babe, you were totally reliving it. I can see it in your face, don't try to lie to me, Nora Grey. And for the second time tonight, I say, what a naughty girl!" She winks and punches me lightly on the shoulder. Her light punches could give a kick boxer a run for their money, so I rub my arm and pout at her. "It's a little hard not to Vee," I complain, "considering you've asked me every single detail imaginable."

She shrugs and tells me it's only best friend's duty. She's merely doing her job. _Right_, I think, rolling my eyes.

I'm so eager to get off this topic completely, so I divert attention back to her. "How long are you staying in town Vee?"

She mentally counts, and physically ticks off on her fingers. "I'm staying for five more days. But the last two days are all stupid family get-togethers and parties. Ugh. The only thing getting me through it is the promise of free booze at the shower." I give her the strangest of looks, prompting a, "Oh, you know, don't they always have that fancy champagne-spiked punch? How much of that will I have to drink to make me forget I was there? That's my goal, I think."

I roll my eyes and stand up, going to her closet. Vee is definitely more curvaceous and fuller than me, but there's a few items that we share. Jackets, boots, things like that. I rummage through the clothes she left in her house, reminiscing on our high school days. Things were so _normal_ back then. But I guess even then we had nephilim blood running through our veins, waiting for the perfect moment to show itself.

As much as I'd love to have a normal sleepover, full of Friends re-runs, midnight snacks, and gossiping, I know that we aren't those simple, innocent girls anymore. I'm not that simple girl anymore, and I'm definitely NOT innocent. I'm in deep with Patch, and there's no turning back. Really, I wouldn't want to, though. I have to get him back, make up, and fix this shit that's been going on. Today is as good a day as any other, I suppose.

"Vee, where do you keep those black knee high boots? I think you and I will be going on an… _adventure_ later tonight."

* * *

A/N: Please, please review! They inspire me so much. Thanks for your kind words! An update is on its way!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Wow it has been far too long! Sorry! But I pretty much have the next chapter done. I just need your feedback to let me know what you think, what should happen, etc. Thanks to my loyal readers! Take it away Patchy.

* * *

**PPOV**

Of all the people I could run into at the store, her? Of all the times that she had to go grocery shopping. Now? The Fates have a pretty twisted sense of humor.

Blythe Grey had never liked me. I wouldn't go so far as to say that she hates me, but I'm sure that when she pictured someone for her daughter, I wouldn't even make the list for top one hundred. Our relationship has always been somewhat… strained. She's a great mother, but she isn't the biggest fan of me.

She stands a few feet away from me in the supermarket entrance, eying me up and down. We haven't seen much of each other recently – she's always away for work and well, Nora doesn't live with her anymore. Yet another reason why Patch sucks in her eyes: she stole away her only child, her only daughter. The blowup between them when Nora told her she'd be moving in with me is one of those things that might be nothing big when we look back on it, but at the time it was a mess. Thank the heavens Nora refused to let me be there when she told her.

Her scrupulous gaze makes me harden my stance; I've never been a fan of examinations. I look much the same, considering I don't age normally. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I register that she appears aged – lost weight, some wrinkles, grey hairs. I feel a pange of guilt, saddened that Nora, her and I don't have a better relationship. Other than Nora, she's the only family I have. I resolve to try and build our relationship, in the future.

So while this inner monologue is going on through my head, she stands there. She looks at me expectantly, like she just asked a question. I say, "I'm sorry, what was that?" I honestly was too wrapped up in my thoughts.

Mrs. Grey repeats, "I was wondering where Nora was. I'm surprised she's not with you. I thought she was glued to your hip."

"Oh, she's just taking a nap right now. She's feeling a bit under the weather, I'm afraid." I say nonchalantly. Luckily, the bags in my hand are paper, not plastic, so I won't be subject to embarrassing explanations. I raise them and point, saying, "Just picking up some pain relievers and the like."

"That's a shame." She says, frowning. "Tell her to call me, would you? I haven't seen her since last week." That's right… the last time she saw her mother, Nora was kidnapped and hospitalized. Mrs. Grey has no idea that anything happened, of course. And I don't intend for her to find out; I'm sure Nora would be ordered back home instantly if her mother knew.

"Of course I'll tell her. She'll be happy we ran into each other. And we've been saying that we would love to have you over for dinner soon." She nods and agrees, promising to come over one night this week. I give her a smile and she moves to leave, saying goodbye.

That went fairly well, I think to myself. Another crisis averted, for now.

On the ride home, I spent the whole way making up a plan for tonight. As I very well know, because it has been one of the only things on my mind, I have that meeting tonight. That damn phone call that nearly ruined Nora and I, _that_ meeting. They didn't sound like people that would want to be kept waiting… at all, so I have to time it perfectly. The man on the phone told me to meet them at the south gate, and alone. I know that he meant the south gate of Coldwater's cemetery, even though he didn't verbalize it. But I just know that he meant the cemetery; where else would we meet? When I consider the meeting place, I guess it's kind of an ironic choice.

Because Nora isn't feeling well, I'm hoping she'll call it a night early and fall asleep, letting me slip out unnoticed. It shouldn't take too long; they aren't men of many words. But I will not let their shortness scare me off or force my hand in any way. And as much as Nora hates me for it, I'm doing this for her. Everything I do is for her sake, for her safety and well-being. Now I'm just eager to get back to the apartment and see how she is doing. I can't stand it when she's in pain or feeling sad. Or in this case, both.

Once I'm there, I juggle the bags in one hand and unlock the door with my other. Stepping inside, I call out, "Angel! I'm back." No response. Oh, shit… I hope she isn't sleeping and I just shouted my arrival. But I go father into the apartment and I see the bedroom light on through the half-opened door. She _never_ likes to sleep with the light on; it's like a weird pet peeve or something, so she's definitely still awake. Probably in the bathroom and I can't hear her mumbled response. Nora _did_ always mumble.

"You'll never guess who I saw at the store… I mean you might, since you can read my mind and all, but don't! Because _that_, my love, would be cheating." I laugh and throw my keys on the counter, but I don't hear the laugh that I expected. I set down the bags and pull out some Advil that I bought, intending to bring it to her. Shaking the bottle loud enough so she can hear, I call out, "Hear that Angel? That's the sound of some be-a-utiful pain relief." I move swiftly down the hallway. "Angel?" I say, twisting the cap off the medicine bottle and pouring two capsules into my hand. With my elbow, I nudge the door open.

As my eyes fall on the note on the bed, the pills slip from my hands and scatter onto the floor.

She's gone.

* * *

**NPOV**

"Babe, your hair."

"What about it Vee?" I sigh, already knowing what she is planning.

She pushes my shoulders down until I'm sitting in the chair in front of her vanity. Once I look in the mirror, I can kind of understand her worry. It looks like I just slept on it, ran a marathon, fell into a bush (which I did), and slept on it again. A part of a dead leaf falls sadly from my hair and onto my lap when I shake my head. I pick it up and say, "Okay, Vee, might as well do my hair. You've chosen everything else I'm wearing."

Minutes before, I'd stood in the middle of Vee's room, looking at the clothes-strewn, glittering, pink décor. Her bureau and vanity table was rimmed with make-up, hair supplies, and accessories. "I really can just wear what I have on." I said. "I'm sorry I even brought up the boots."

She emerged from her closet, holding the knee-high black boots in one hand and something that looked black and silky in the other. Or maybe it was velvet. Either way, it looked slinky and _way_ too tight. "Where did you even get that?" I ask, catching it when she tossed it at me.

"I bought it a while ago. I told myself I would slim down enough to fit in it before Jimmy Kent's party last year, but _that_ never happened. A shame, really. It made my ass look _great_. Go put it on. NOW." She demands, turning her back and flicking through her jacket collection.

I step into the small bathroom attached to her room and wrestle the dress on. It was form fitting and scandalously short, with spaghetti straps that crossed in the back. Moping, I step back into her room and say, "I look ridiculous, Vee. This is too short."

"GOD, babe. You look great in that. If you got it, flaunt it!" She exclaims, shoving a small black leather jacket onto me. _Flaunt what?_ I think as I'm handed those damn boots.

Looking incredulously at the shoes, I say, "Vee, I hate to break it to you, but we aren't going to a strip club tonight. We're not even going to any type of club tonight. We're following Patch to see what this meeting is about."

With a wicked glint in her eye, she tells me, "Exactly, dear Nora. And I hate to break it to you, but its not every day that you get to go on a secret mission to spy on your boyfriend's whereabouts. I need to take full advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity. Which is why we are dressing up like the sexiest spies this world has ever seen."

Rolling my eyes, I flop onto her bed in defeat, knowing that I won't win this argument. I pull on the boots, lacing them to the top and standing in front of a mirror. I have to admit, this combination is fairly badass. When she notices that I've finished dressing, Vee comments on my hair and starts to work on it.

After a few minutes of pulling and tugging, sticking my skull with bobby pins, and perfecting the look, Vee tells me she's done. But before I get up, she says, "Where _exactly_ are we going tonight? You said it wasn't a strip club, but what did you have in mind?"

I look in the small hand-held mirror sitting on the counter and say, "You know… just around town. I've got one or two places, maybe…"

"Cut the bull, babe." She interrupts. "You know exactly where it is. Just tell me. I won't run off and abandon this plan or anything." She crosses her arms and stares at me.

Bracing myself, I say, "Fine Vee. He'll be at… the cemetery." I see her eyes go round, so I put up my hands. "I know, its –"

"Bat shit crazy, that's what it is! You were abducted there. Babe, there was a freaking _war_ there. That place is not somewhere we should ever go." As she goes on, her voice is getting quieter, almost to a whisper. "Nora… It's just… Scott died there." Her voice wavers and tears pool in her eyes. Scott's death really affected her, whether she cares to admit it or not. Underneath her steely exterior, Vee always had a soft spot for Scott.

I move from the chair and wrap her in a hug. "I know Vee. I'm so sorry that happened. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss him. And I'm sorry for bringing up that place. I would totally understand if you stayed here." And I would, really.

She pushes me an arm's length away and looks shocked. "Nora! I just told you, like _two seconds ago,_ that I wouldn't abandon you! Is something wrong with your short term memory?" She smiles sadly and wipes away the stray tears that leaked onto her cheek. She takes a breath and my old Vee is back in a heartbeat.

"But how did you know that he'll be there? At the cemetery?" She asks.

She already thinks I'm crazy, and I'm starting to think I'm crazy too. "I don't know, Vee, I just… When he was on the phone, the guy said to meet him by the south gate. And I figure, the cemetery has gates, right?" I shrug and avoid her steely gaze.

"And so does about every other park, manor, and resident in the fifty mile radius." She counters. "What made you think cemetery?"

I wring my fingers together and say, "Don't think I'm crazy-" She interrupts and tells me she already thinks that. I roll my eyes and continue "- but when I imagine that he might be at the cemetery tonight, my gut tells me I'm right. _Literally_, when I think of him being there, my gut twists. And I just know that's where he'll be."

She gives me a look that says, 'yeah, sure, _right'_ but doesn't question me any further. All she says is, "Whatever you say. I'll go wherever you lead me." I nod, looking sure of my decision. My hand sticks to my hip and I lose my balance a little in these shoes, but overall, I'm the picture of confidence.

She glances up and down, eyeing me over. A small humming noise comes from her throat, signaling her approval at my ensemble. "If I do say so myself, I believe I was a stylist in another life." She winks and saunters into her closet. From inside, she calls, "Okay, what should _I_ wear? Oh goodness. This might take a while, Nora. How on earth do I have nothing to wear? Well, maybe this one…" When I stop listening, she's still talking to herself.

Unfortunately, something else is demanding my attention. It's the ring of my cell phone. Patch is calling.

* * *

**PPOV**

She's gone.

I ignore the scattered Advil and grab the note in my hands to make sure it's real. It says that she's gone to Vee's for a "girls night". I may not know everything about these "girls nights", but I don't really buy it for a second. Not only an hour ago, she was violently ill and bed-ridden. Does she expect me to believe it? Why would she want to get out of the house like that?

_She wants to get away from you, asshat_, I think to myself. And I honestly can't blame her. All I've done for the past 24 hours is lie to her. Hell, _I_ want to get away from me. But if it's space that she needs, I'll give it to her. I just need to make sure she's safe. Make sure that she's gotten to Vee's okay. I boot up a device on my phone that tells me where her phone is located. On more than one occasion, the device has been useful. More recently, I used it when I had to find her when she was kidnapped. But Nora knows I have it and has asked me once or twice to find her cell when she just misplaces it by accident.

The device is seaching… searching… located it. She's, she's… at Vee's house; I recognize the address. Well, at least one of us is being truthful. That's good, she's safe. Maybe she really is having a girls night? Nora is a fighter, I mean, maybe she really did bounce back from being sick that quickly.

Now that I know she's at Vee's house, safe, I debate whether or not I should call her. The note didn't say to. And if she wants space, calling her when she leaves certainly wouldn't give her any space.

But underneath, I can't help but feel relieved at her being out for the night. I don't have to sneak out and go meet them, and she won't be worried if she finds me gone. Maybe her being at Vee's is the best thing for everyone right now. For now, I'm not going to question why she left and went to Vee's house. Nora is a big girl and she can handle herself if she doesn't want me. Everything seems like it's working itself out.

For a few moments, I stir around the apartment, looking for something to occupy myself. I can't let my mind drift to tonight; I'll just overthink it. But of course, my mind has other plans and starts to overthink. So when my eyes glance over my cell phone in my hand, I can't help but think that I should call Nora before tonight. I don't expect anything bad to happen, but I should call and talk to her, in case this is my last chance because something bad _does_ happen. Her voice will calm my thoughts.

Scrolling through my recent calls, I find Nora's name. When I press on it and bring the phone to my ear, I decide that I'm just going to go along with whatever Nora says about her girls night. She would be so much safer with her friend than with me tonight.

It rings once, twice. On the third ring, she answers. "Hello!" She squeaks, raising her voice an octave to match her cheery note. "I'm sorry, did you find my note? I'm at Vee's. Girls night, you know."

In spite of the situation, I smile to myself. Her voice, that's just what I needed. "Hey Angel. Gave me quite a surprise when I didn't see you here." She laughs nervously and squeaks another apology. I say, "But I got your note. And that's great… you and Vee should catch up. You're feeling better, I assume?"

"Oh, yep, hundred percent. Never better!" she says quickly. I hear Vee in the background say, 'How bout this outfit? Wait, who are you talking to?' Nora mumbles back, 'Patch'. Well, I know for sure now that she's with Vee. And I don't doubt for one minute that Vee would let anything happen to Nora. But now, I just want to hear Nora's voice some more.

"What are you two doing over there?" I ask, my lip curling up in a smile that I'm sure she can hear in my voice.

I hear a zipper being zipped and Nora's response, "Oh, uh, just doing some dress up. Vee made me put on this ridiculous dress, with crazy high boots to top it, because we're-" She cuts off mid-sentence.

I wait for her to finish, but she doesn't. "You're what, Angel?"

She laughs nervously again, and I hear Vee's harsh whisper in the background, but I can't make out her words. "We were just going to take some pictures! Of us. In the outfits. You know, like modeling? Girl stuff. Su-per boring." My response is a chuckle, the thought of her doing that is a little strange. She says, "I'll probably stay over, so I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sounds like fun, Angel. I'm glad you're feeling better. I'll see you soon." She says goodbye, but before she goes, I add, "I love you, Angel." Her intake of breath is audible. _Too soon, Patch_, I think as I face-palm myself. _She needs space, not I love you's._ But she surprises me and says in a wobbly voice, "Love you too, Patch. Stay out of trouble. Please." We end the call there and I set my phone down.

It's almost time to leave for the cemetery. I go into the bedroom and shift the wardrobe a couple feet to the left. Kneeling down, I graze my fingers over the floors until they catch on a slight crack. My fingers pry open the one floorboard and I set it next to me. I reach down into the compartment in the floor and pull out my old bow and quiver, blowing off the dust. I can't remember the last time I used it.

Ironic, I know, an angel with a bow an arrow. But it's my oldest weapon of choice. I find that the position of the bow and arrow is similar to the arm positioning of the cue stick in pool. Tonight, nothing should make me use this but I can't go completely defenseless. This is merely a precaution.

And I have to take every precaution I can, because I have no idea what I'll be stepping into when I get to the cemetery tonight.

* * *

A/N: Mwahaha cliffy. Review like the wind!


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